Valiant Protector
by Lexxia
Summary: He knew something was wrong from the start. He just didn't know how wrong things were. But the real question is, can the diagnostician be human enough to save the woman he cares about? House/Cuddy. Set Pre-season 4. Not a fluffy story.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:**_ Wow, something new. Scary, isn't it? Don't worry, I haven't forgot about the other stories I have. I actually have some stuff written for them, it's just been hard to write them because of university and two relatives dying within a month.

_**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing! Don't sue! Please!

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The thunder rumbled as he lay on the couch, his hand tapping a pattern of quarter notes on the coffee table as a result of boredom. The mindless junk that's on the television doesn't interest him, nor does the thought of alcohol. He sighs, sitting up and looking about the room. Nothing in the apartment seemed to jump out and scream "ENTERTAINMENT!"

And yet, there was something unsettling in the air; something that caused him to be so uneasy that he couldn't sit still. He glanced at the clock, noting that it read about quarter past ten. Something surfaced in his mind, reminding him that the people around him were all going about their lives like normal people while he secluded himself to the confines of his apartment night after night.

Standing he limped about the living room, running a hand through his hair while trying to quell the feeling of dread that was spreading from his stomach to his chest and throat. He wanted nothing more that to be able to pinpoint what was causing it, but he couldn't. All he knew was that he needed to be somewhere that wasn't his lair.

Grabbing his coat and keys he left the dwelling, locking the door before stumbling down the front steps to his motorbike. Somewhere in his mind he recalled something about a date and a club. His mind told him to go annoy her. His heart screamed at him to hurry.

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_**A/N: **_Thoughts? Comments? Lemme know!


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: **_So here's chapter 2. Don't worry, there will be more plot later, just gotta set the stage first, right? Thanks to my friend Alicia (Miss Dark and Twisted) for BETA.

_**Disclaimer: **_Still don't own anything.

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_Flashback_

"_You're leaving early," House commented, leaning against the counter in the clinic and watching Cuddy lock the doors to her office. _

"_I'm entitled to leave early on occasion. Lord knows you leave whenever you feel like it, even when you have a patient," she shot back, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she walked towards the exit. _

"_Where are you going, to meet some donor and give the old bastard a little one on one love so as to get a couple extra thousand dollars out of him?" he asked, twirling his cane in his hand. Cuddy turned, shooting him a seething glare._

"_No. I have a date and I'd like to look presentable for once. __**Without **__your interference. I swear to God House, if you ruin another one of my dates you will be doing clinic duty until Cameron and Chase get married and pop out six children," she snapped, turning and slipping out the door. House watched her go, his eyes dropping to her ass. _

"_At least her anger gives a nice view," he muttered to himself, limping off to find Wilson. It wasn't a hard task the Diagnostician discovered, seeing as Wilson was in his office. _

"_Why is it that almost every time you come in here with that smirk on your face that I feel like I should be fearing for my job and your sanity?" Wilson asked, looking up from the papers he had been working through. House grinned, flopping down on the couch and looking over at his best friend._

"_Oh, no reason, Cuddy was just threatening me with clinic duty as usual," he replied, stretching out. Wilson sighed, rolling his eyes. _

"_Do I want to know why she felt compelled to threaten you?"_

"_I just made a comment about her nightly activities," House answered cryptically. _

"_You're not planning on going to Rumours and ruining her date, are you?" Wilson queried hesitantly. _

"_I wasn't planning on it, but now that I know where her date is going to be, I may feel slightly compelled to do a little clubbing tonight," he responded. Wilson cursed under his breath for saying anything about where Cuddy was going with her date. _

"_House, please, don't annoy her today. Let her have one night without you harassing her," the oncologist pleaded. House rolled his eyes in exasperation. _

"_Whatever," was his reply before he stood and left the office. As tempting as pissing off Cuddy was, he didn't really feel in the mood for anymore clinic duty that he was already forced to do. _

_End flashback_

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House turned a corner on his motorbike, slowing to a halt in front of Rumours, one of the night clubs that graced the Princeton area with its obnoxious music and young, often drunken, patrons. Due to the fact it was only a Thursday there was no line outside the doors, the street mostly clear of pedestrians. He parked the bike a few meters from the doors in an empty space before dislodging his cane and heading to the entrance.

"Good evening Sir, and welcome to Rumours," the bouncer greeted him. House nodded curtly before entering the club, tossing a twenty at the young woman who manned the desk before he wandered further into the dance hall. Strobe lights danced across the room, showing the endless amounts of college students grinding to the heavy bass beat that echoed through the room. House squinted, trying to distinguish who was who in the crowd as he limped towards the bar area.

The lasers spun from the ceiling, making House's eyes hurt. He hadn't been to a dance club since he had been in college. The nagging feeling of dread in his stomach seemed to intensify as he wandered about the room, trying to move through the throng of people that seemed to fill every inch of space. His fingers tightened on his cane as he shoved through the crowd, is eyes catching a flash of dark hair that was moving towards the back of the club. It wasn't the figure he was trying to capture, but rather the male that was following the woman with a dark intent seemingly visible in his presence. House hadn't been able to run since the Ketamine, but he was damned near close to running as he fought through the teenagers towards the darkened hallways that encompassed the back of the nightclub.

House had never realized he could move as fast as he was, no matter how much the cane hindered him. His leg burned from the amount of weight he was putting on it, not to mention his speed, but he ignored it, his mind spinning out of control. He finally made it to the dark hallway, his stomach dropping at the sight in front of him.

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_**A/N:**_ Chap 3 will be up by the middle of November, or before, it depends on how quickly I can get my psyche and linguistics papers written. Rumours is actually a nightclub in Niagara Falls Ontario. Apparently it's pretty slick. I do plan on going there as soon as I'm 19. Whoo.

Reviews make me smile.


	3. Chapter 3

_**WARNING!!!!!!! THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC ADULT CONTENT. Translation, if you cannot sit through an episode of Law and Order SVU DO NOT read this.**_

_**Author's Note: **_Ha! I actually did something within my own deadline! Go me! Thanks again to Alicia for beta reading this. You're awesome!

_**Disclaimer:**_ I own nothing.

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She was coming out of the bathroom when hands found their way to her arms, shoving her backwards against the wall, so tight that she knew she was going to have bruises. Eyes wide, she looked up at the man in front of her, unable to form words. Her head felt strange and her stomach was churning with fear and some other unknown element.

"Hey baby, lets make some memories," the man hissed in her ear, his breath laced with the bitter smell of beer. He roughly grabbed her breast, palming it while trying to undo some of the buttons of her shirt.

"No, I don't-" she barely had the words out of her mouth when his hand released her arm and came crashing down on her cheek, slamming her head against the wall behind her. Her head spun, stars exploding behind her eyes as her body slipped down the wall.

"You little slut! You want this! You fucking want this!" he growled at her, pressing his pelvis against hers, forcing her to feel his erection. She closed her eyes, trying to force him away but to no avail. She struggled as he grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head. "I bet you're wet, aren't you, you filthy little whore." With that he shoved her skirt up with his free hand, gripping her thigh in a steel fist. His fingers found her panties quickly, tearing them from her body. He tossed the shredded material on the floor beside his feet, a grin spreading across his face at how her skirt remained bunched around her waist, exposing her. "Tell me you want it," he said. She shook her head, tears slipping from her eyes. She had lost all power of speech, her heart racing in her chest as a feeling of nausea spread throughout her body. He smacked his hand across her face again, cutting her. His nails dug into her wrists as he reached between them to undo his belt buckle.

"You fucking little bitch," he hissed, pressing a rough kiss against her mouth. She was crying freely by then, her body nowhere near under her control. She felt dizzy and sick and so disconnected from the world that she barely noticed the figure that was racing towards them.

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To say that Gregory House saw red was an understatement. If a flash of red was a sign of anger, then he saw the entire Nile River after Moses had turned it red with blood. He saw the dark haired male with his hands all over Lisa Cuddy, and it made him sick. He saw the man undoing his pants, his hands pinning her smaller ones above her head and saw in an instant what the man was intending to do. He saw the ripped panties by their feet and the blood trickling down Cuddy's face. Cuddy seemed to want nothing of it, her eyes glazed over and brimming with tears that were slipping down her pale cheeks.

"GET AWAY FROM HER!" House bellowed, bringing his cane up and smashing the man in the back of the knees with it. The male yelped, falling backwards and effectively losing his hold on Cuddy. She slipped to the floor in a sitting position, staring blankly at the opposite wall. House would make sure she was alright as soon as he made the bastard pay for what he had done.

House had never felt as angry as he did that moment. He dropped his cane, practically jumping on the fallen man and repeatedly punching him in the face. He felt the man's nose break, his knuckles burning, but he didn't stop. There was blood covering his knuckles after a few moments, but he kept at it. The man beneath him attempted to fight back, thrusting his arms up in an attempt to punch House in the face or to dislodge him, but it was no use. The diagnostician was seemingly blinded by rage and therefore unstoppable.

The attack halted abruptly when House seemed to realize that he was liable to kill the slightly younger man beneath him. He shoved himself to his feet, grabbing his cane with a slight groan. His hands would be covered in bruises in the morning, he knew, but he didn't care. The man jumped to his feet, swaying slightly from the constant blows to his head. He glared at House, blood falling down his face and onto his shirt.

"Fuck you!" the guy snarled, wincing at the feeling of using his jaw. House smirked to himself, pretty sure that he had broken the bastard's jaw, as well as his nose. The other male ran from the hallway then, a trail of blood following him from his broken nose and split lip. House turned around, ignoring the searing pain that was encompassing his leg. He looked down at Cuddy, taking in her terrified and yet vacant expression. She was staring out in front of her, breath coming in wheezing gasps. There was a gash on the side of her face from where she had been hit, bruises forming around the oozing cut. House winced, seeing the various other bruises that were starting to appear on her bare arms, along with scratches that adorned her limbs.

"Cuddy, come on, get up, I need to get you to a hospital. You need to be checked over," House said, trying to get her attention. She made no move to get up, her breathing escalating to hyperventilation. House scrambled around in his pocket, pulling out a prescription bag and gingerly tearing it open. He dropped the Vicodin bottle back into his jeans pocket before holding the paper bag to Cuddy's mouth, trying to make her to breathe into it. He winced as he lowered himself to the floor next to her, pushing her skirt down towards her knees so that she wasn't exposed any more. The sight of her torn underwear on the floor about a foot away made him feel physically ill. He sat beside her, holding the paper bag to her mouth for a good five minutes before her breathing regulated enough that he no longer feared her passing out from lack of oxygen. He heaved himself off the floor, holding out a hand for her. She didn't move.

"Cuddy, come on, please," he said again. She remained on the floor, her eyes focused on the wall across from her, her body trembling. House didn't like the way things were going, his diagnostically trained mind recognizing the signs of psychological shock almost instantly. "Cuddy, come on, you need to get up. You know that I... Lisa, you know I can't carry you," House said with defeat. He knew his pleading was useless; she was pulling further and further into her mind, trying to escape from the traumatic situation. House popped a Vicodin, taking his cane and shoving it into the back of his belt. Bending down he carefully balanced on his good leg before slipping his arms under her and lifting her from the floor. His leg instantly protested and he struggled to keep his balance.

House limped through the club, ignoring the strange looks some of the other patrons were giving him. A few times he snarled at them, as if daring them to say anything. He stumbled a few times as he made his way to the exit, Cuddy still in his arms. Her body seemed to have switched onto autopilot for her arms had become wrapped around his neck as he moved through the throngs of people occupying the dance floor. The bouncer gave House a strange look until he saw the cuts on Cuddy's face and House's beaten up appearance.

"Hey, is everything okay, man?" the bouncer asked. House grunted, his leg feeling like it was on fire.

"Can you hail me a cab," House managed to request, trying to shift his weight again. The bouncer instantly ran to the curb, waving at the cab that was coming down the street.

"What happened?" he questioned, moving back to the entrance of the club to stand next to House.

"Someone attacked her. Look, if you see a guy with a broken and bloody nose, detain him and call the cops, okay?" House said, forcing himself to the cab, giving the bouncer a nod of thanks for opening the cab door for him. House lowered Cuddy into the nearest seat, buckling her in before collecting his cane from his belt and limping to the other side of the car. He slid into his own seat, watching how Cuddy sagged against the closed door, the blank stare still on her face. Considering how private of a person Cuddy was, House figured that she wouldn't exactly like going to Princeton-Plainsborough in view of the nature of her attack. "Take us to Centra State Medical Centre please."

"Princeton-Plainsborough is closer," the cabby said, glancing back into the mirror to see House checking Cuddy's pulse with one hand while he gently rubbed some of the blood off her face with a tissue.

"I know. I don't care. Take us to Hightstown," House retorted. As the cabby started driving the diagnostician slipped off his leather jacket and put it over Cuddy's chest and shoulders, covering her slightly mangled clothing. "You know, I'm actually starting to miss you yelling at me...but I don't think I'll mind being able to perform brain biopsies without your approval," House said to the Dean of Medicine. What scared him the most was that his comment didn't get a rise out of her. What was worse was that she didn't even blink.

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When they got to the hospital the cabby got a wheelchair and helped House get Cuddy into it. He wished them luck before driving off. House gingerly pushed the chair into the ER and went promptly to the desk, popping a Vicodin as he knocked on the counter.

"Hi there, I'm Gregory House. Can I get some prompt care for my lady friend here? She's gone into psychological shock after almost being molested," House said to the nurse. The woman looked from House to Cuddy and back again before springing out of her chair.

"Right this way Sir," she said moving swiftly down the hall, clip board in hand. House followed the nurse, leaning heavily on the wheelchair.

"You owe me time off clinic duty when you're able to tie your own shoes again," House hissed in Cuddy's ear. "Cause this babying thing I'm doing with you right now is definitely killing my harsh, evil image." She just stared at the back of the nurse, not seeing anything around her.

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_**A/N:**_ Centra State Medical Centre is actually a real hospital in Hightstown New Jersey. I apologize for using the Canadian spelling of centre but, well, I live in Canada. Haha.

Reviews are loved, hugged and will be rewarded with virtual cakes or cookies. They're good, I promise, I work in a bakery!


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note: **_Sorry this has taken so long, I've been really busy with work and studying for exams. I had one yesterday and I have another one tomorrow. Yikes. Good thing I find writing therapeutic and relaxing before bed, aye? Sorry if House seems a bit out of character but, yeah, that's just how he's gonna be :) Thanks again to Alicia for beta.

_**Disclaimer: **_I own the characters you haven't heard of before. Anyone who's on TV is well, not mine.

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House followed the nurse into an exam room, collapsing heavily onto a chair and pulling a Vicodin from his pocket.

"I'll get a doctor and a psychiatrist here as soon as possible," the woman told him, scribbling a few things down on her clipboard before passing it to House. He nodded in response, looking tiredly down at the papers in front of him. "Do you want someone to tend to your hand as well?" she asked. House looked down at his fingers, flexing them and trying to suppress the groan that wanted to escape from his lips.

"It's just bruised, it'll be fine," House answered.

"Alright, can you fill out those forms please?" the nurse queried. House nodded wearily, watching as she walked back out of the room. He glanced down at the papers in front of him, groaning when he saw that they were almost exactly the same as the ones at Princeton-Plainsborough.

"Do you have any idea how long it's going to take me to fill these out?" he asked his boss who was still seated in the wheelchair next to him. As expected, she gave no response. "Alright. Name: Lisa Anne Cuddy. Your middle name is Anne, isn't it? Well, it is now," he mumbled, scribbling on the paper. "Date of birth...damnit, it's the twelfth of March, right? And you were born in 1967 which makes your age 39...I think. How the hell should I know?! You know what, you're going to have me as your emergency contact mainly because I don't know your parent's address and I hope to God that your sister's name is Cara and not Cathy," House rambled. He filled in as much as he knew before becoming frustrated and tossing the papers aside. "I have no idea why they need to know that you're allergic to cantaloupe," he grumbled, limping over to one of the cabinets to get a suture kit and the various things he would need to do a blood test.

As he came back to her he winced at the bruises forming on her arms. He hated the fact that his hands shook as he tied the elastic around her arm more gently than he normally would have. Shaking his head we went back to the task at hand, trying to stifle the pain the he was feeling, not only in his leg, but in his chest as well. He slid the needle into her vein, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. Filling the tourniquet he pulled the needle back out, pressing a cotton ball to the puncture mark before covering it with a bandage. He labelled the vial before tossing it on the counter, then looked at the diminutive form of his boss once again. He sighed, brushing the hair from her face to get a better look at the wound on her cheek. It was longer than he would have liked, nearly two inches, and there was still a small amount of blood trickling down her face.

House swore as another pang of concern shot through his chest. He couldn't believe that someone had had the audacity to do something like that to a woman like Cuddy. He cleaned the offensive wound carefully, suturing it with a touch so gentle that no one would believe that he had done it – not even Wilson. He sat back in his chair, tossing his gloves in the trash can and popping a Vicodin just as the door clicked open.

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Two doctors and a nurse walked into the exam room. The female doctor carried a notepad, her hair pulled back off her neck. The male looked to be about half a decade younger than House and seemed to have the same caring eyes as Wilson.

"Did you put those stitches in _yourself_?!" the male demanded.

"Oh calm down Erik, he's a board certified physician," the blonde said. "Greg House, this is Erik Phelps." House gingerly shook the male doctor's hand, wincing at the movement that the action caused to his bruised knuckles. The nurse fidgeted, going over to the cupboard to get a few things.

"I didn't know you were working tonight, Jenny," House said.

"Jonathan is on a business trip so I figured I could work later shifts," Jenny answered. She and House had grown up together, their fathers being in the same military outfit. House nodded, his eyes going back to Cuddy.

"What happened to her, Doctor House?" Phelps asked.

"The guy she was on a date with attacked her. I don't think he raped her but... I don't know what happened before I got there," House explained.

"Linda, can you get a rape kit please? And get me a needle to draw some blood. We'll need to run a tox screen for date rape drugs," Phelps said.

"Oh, um, I drew some blood already," House muttered, pointing to the vials on the counter. Phelps smiled.

"Greg, let me take a look at your hand while Erik and Linda take care of your friend," Jenny said. House glared at her, noticing the calm voice she was using, almost as if he was a child.

"I'm not going into shock Jenny," he snapped. The blonde rolled her eyes.

"Fine. Get your ass over here Greg. I wasn't to make sure you didn't screw up your hand," she said, her voice firm like a military officer's. House wheeled his chair over to her, glancing back at Phelps and Linda who were getting Cuddy up onto the exam table and prepping her for her examination. "Watch out Greg, I can feel you starting to care," Jenny teased, trying to get House to stray from his usually emotionally closed self.

"Shut up, Jen," House said. Jenny nodded, gently feeling the bones in his hand for breaks. He grimaced as she touched a particularly tender spot. "Are you still qualified to do this? You're a shrink Hen, not an orthopaedic surgeon," he snapped. Jenny rolled her eyes, pressing on the tender spot again just to annoy him. House hissed out a breath, glaring daggers at her.

"I still know how to treat physical injuries; I went to med school just like you! Although I did my entire degree at John Hopkins, unlike someone I know," Jenny retorted, her green eyes still staring into his blue ones. "Nothing is broken, you just need to be careful not to aggravate the bruises too much," she said after a moment. House jumped at the sound of latex gloved being snapped off. Turning around he saw Linda moving Cuddy's feet from the stirrups as Phelps moved across the room.

"No signs of penetration or seminal fluid. I must say, Dr. House, your impeccable timing probably saved her life," Phelps said quietly. "Dr. Chapman, I'm done here. I'll be over at the nurse's station writing up my report. Dr. House, while Dr. Chapman is performing her examination would you mind filling out a police report? Cassandra, the admin nurse called the police when you came in so there is an officer here who would like to take your statement and get a description of the man who attacked Ms. Cuddy," Phelps said. House nodded.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute," he answered, ignoring Phelps and Linda's exit and turning his eyes back to Cuddy. Jenny was pulling up a chair, sitting down in front of the dark haired woman with her notebook open on her lap.

"What's her name?" Jenny asked.

"Cuddy," House responded as if it was the easiest thing in the world to know. Jenny raised an eyebrow. "Oh, um, Lisa," he corrected, getting up from his own chair and heading towards the door.

"Hi Lisa. My name is Jenny Chapman; I'm a psychiatrist at Centra State Medical Centre in Hightstown. Can you tell me what happened?" Jenny watched Cuddy's unchanging demeanour, sighing. She pulled the pen light from her pocket, flashing it in front of Cuddy's eyes. House swallowed hard, unable to stand the distant look Cuddy's eyes held for a moment longer. He limped from the room, going over to the male police officer who was in the waiting room.

"Hey, you're Dr. House, right? I'm Officer Nicholas Leason, are you the one who witnessed the attack?" the man asked. House nodded, lowering himself into a chair. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I don't really know how it started," House began, rubbing a hand over his face. "But when I found them the guy had his hands all over Cuddy. He'd ripped her panties off and had her pinned against the wall. She was crying and didn't want to have anything to do with him. I pulled the guy off, broke his nose, and he ran. That's pretty much all there is to it. You'd have to ask her attending physician about the extent of her physical injuries," House answered. The officer nodded, scribbling things down in his notepad.

"Can you give me a physical description of this man?" Leason inquired.

"About six feet, dark slicked back hair, brown eyes. One hundred sixty pounds, maybe. Broken nose, possible broken jaw," House rambled, fingers tightening on his cane as the mental image of Cuddy's attacker came back into his mind.

"Alright, thank you Dr. House. I'll enter this information into the system and we'll get an APB out to all the hospitals in the area so that they can track him if he comes in to get his injuries taken care of," Leason said. He gave House a pat on the shoulder before going in search of Phelps for the physical exam reports. House stood again, popping a Vicodin as the pain rocketed through his leg. As he limped back to Cuddy's room he could hear Jenny talking softly to her.

"How long has she been like this?" Jenny asked the minute he walked in the door.

"Since I found her with that bastard," House snarled.

"And how long ago was that?"

"I don't know. An hour? Hour and a half maybe?" he replied. The blonde nodded, sighing as she scribbled a few things down before closing her notebook and resting her elbows on her knees.

"Greg, you and I both know there isn't a lot anyone can do to treat psychological shock. It's all supportive care. I can have her admitted till she comes out of this waking coma or I can send her home. She's going to need 24 hour care though due to her inability to care for herself. I would recommend that she stay here until she's mentally aware unless a doctor is going to be watching over her," Jenny said, her voice grave and serious. House fidgeted. It was one thing to have cared for her this much, but he wasn't sure if he could be around her when she was practically a rag doll. "Greg?" Jenny asked, poking him in the arm with the dull end of her pencil. House shook himself back to reality, sighing.

"I'll keep an eye on her. She wouldn't want to be locked in the loony bin," he said after a moment. Jenny's eyes softened, her playful sparkle coming back.

"Oh sweet Lord, you ARE going soft," she laughed, watching House glare at her before sobering. "It's not going to be a walk in the park to look after someone suffering from psychological shock, you know," she said.

"Just give me the instructions Jenny; I just want to get her out of this place."

"Alright. Where did the attack happen?"

"At a night club."

"Strobe lights and lasers?"

"Yeah..."

"Okay. Make sure you don't have any flashing lights or loud noises around her. Seeing or hearing these things could remind her of the attack and make her regress, possibly even develop a syndrome of amnesia almost like Korsakov's only without the malnutrition or alcoholism. Reminders when she's still in a fragile state like this could also push her into PTSD if you're not careful. When she first starts to come out of this state she may experience intense pain, anger or fear. She may well scream or cry or just run away from you. There have also been cases where the person comes back very slowly. Lisa may well develop an almost child-like speech pattern. She may only know a few words and be unable to truly express herself. You need to be _extremely _patient with her Greg. You _really_ cannot let your temper take hold of you. I'm not saying this to scare you or make you think I'm being a bitch and try to change who you are, because I'm not Greg. The blunt truth is if you're not careful you could break that poor woman and effectively destroy the Lisa you know," Jenny was saying, having gotten up halfway through her instructions so that she was now leaning against the wall.

"I know the basics, Jen," House muttered, flexing his fingers against the handle of his cane.

"I know that you know, I'm just reiterating the info," Jenny replied, fixing her hairclip. "Lisa can't take care of herself Greg; you're the one who is going to be taking care of her." It was that moment that Phelps came back into the room.

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_**A/N:**_ Good? Bad? Indifferent? Lemme know! It'll help keep me sane while I frantically study for psychology, astronomy and linguistics. Next chapter will hopefully be up soon.

Thanks for reading.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's Note:**_ Sorry this took so long. Christmas became a huge ordeal, not to mention working INSANE hours the past few weeks. Who needs a million baguettes on New Years Eve anyways? Hope you all have had a wonderful holiday season! Thanks again to Alicia, my wonderful Beta.

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"There was Flunitrazepam in her blood stream, but it was very diluted which is probably why she wasn't knocked out completely. It worked mainly as a muscle relaxant so that she couldn't fight back against the attack," Phelps said. He passed the toxicology over to House who growled at the paper, only stopping his tirade of angst when Jenny grabbed his shoulder with a death grip.

"Erik, Greg is going to take Lisa home and keep watch over her for the next 48 hours or so until she regains consciousness. I've already given him some care instructions for her mental state. Anything you want to ask?" Jenny questioned.

"Just be prepared for her to act almost like a newborn. She may be incompetent and won't know how to express her needs. As the Flunitrazepam wears off she may suffer from fevers, vomiting, shaking, dizziness and stuff like that. Keep her calm and hydrated while resting. The police will contact you if they catch the guy. They'll also want Lisa to make a statement when she's feeling up to it. If you have any questions don't hesitate to call. I'll be here till 8am tomorrow," Phelps said. He shook House's hand before leaving to sign the discharge papers.

"Do you have your car here, Greg?" Jenny asked. House shook his head.

"No, I took my bike to the club and a taxi over here," he responded.

"I'm off in ten minutes, I'll give you a lift back to her house or your apartment," she said, grabbing her papers.

"No, really Jen, it's fine, we'll take a cab-" House started. The female glared at him.

"Be ready in ten, I'm going to sign out, brief Dr. Mackenzie and grab my coat." With that she was gone. House sighed, running a hand through his hair before looking at Cuddy. He limped over to the exam table, pushing her hair away from her face and grimacing at the extensive bruising that was covering her cheek and jaw.

"Come on Cuddles, back in the wheelchair you go," he said. He slid his arms around her, picking her up with a grunt and then placing her back in the chair. He knew that she would most likely have some of her basic motor functions back soon, but he feared intently about when she was able to comprehend what had happened – not to mention what almost happened to her.

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House found Jenny signing a bunch of papers at the front desk, her coat hanging open as she rambled frantically to an older man – Dr. Mackenzie. She glanced back at him, worry in her green eyes.

"Thanks Joseph, call me if there's anything else you need," she said before pulling her scarf around her neck and jogging over to where House stood, his cane balanced on his wrist and his weight resting on the handles of the wheelchair. "Where do you want me to take you Greg?"

"Back to her place. She'd probably freak out if she woke up in my apartment. I need to stop at home though and grab some clothes. Not to mention more of my little friends," he added as an afterthought, pulling out his bottle of Vicodin and shaking it to show her that it was near empty. Jenny rolled her eyes, pushing him away from the wheelchair with her hip and beginning to push it towards the employee parking garage.

"Right. You know what you're getting yourself into undertaking her care, right?" House rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I do. Besides, I can harass her as much as I want to when she can't retort with some god-awful threat of more clinic duty," he replied. Jenny shook her head, unlocking her car and tossing her purse into the driver's seat.

"You gonna help me get her into the back or just stand there and laugh as I try and pick her up on my own?" Jenny inquired. House moved to her side, lifting Cuddy up and gently putting her into the back of Jenny's Lexus. "Or you could do the entire thing yourself..." the blonde muttered, jogging the wheelchair back to the doors of the hospital and depositing it inside. When she returned to the car she found House sitting in the passenger seat, Cuddy safely buckled in the back and once again wrapped in House's thick winter coat.

"It's cold," he said, as if trying to explain his actions within two simple words.

"Right, and you've always been a gentleman at heart," Jenny scoffed, throwing the car into gear and pulling out of the parking garage. House made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat.

"Have you always been this obnoxious?" he queried.

"Yes. That's why we're friends Greg; you annoy me just as much as I annoy you," Jenny smirked. "Besides, we were the only kids on base in Egypt and East Asia growing up. It was either be friends or be bored out of our minds until we got shipped back to the States."

"Right..." House mumbled, watching the streetlights flash by through the passenger side window. Jenny glanced at him again every few moments as she drove, checking on Cuddy through the rear-view mirror. When she pulled up in front of House's apartment she turned in her seat, looking directly at her friend of so many years. He seemed torn between going to get his belongings from the apartment and staying in the car with Cuddy.

"Do you want me to-" Jenny started.

"No, its fine, I'll be back in a minute," House replied, grabbing his cane and pulling himself out of the car. Jenny watched him limping up the steps, his gait more laboured and awkward than usual. She easily figured out that it was from all the lifting and carrying he had done.

It was barely five minutes before he was back in the car again, blue eyes staring out in front of him and backpack resting between his legs.

"Greg?" Jenny asked.

"Just drive Jen. Just drive."

XxXxXxXxX

The drive over to Cuddy's house was silent, save for the sound of the heater in the car humming softly, the three passengers breathing and House's occasional barked directions so that Jenny knew where she was driving. Jenny didn't exactly feel like fighting House on why he cared so much and instead allowed her mind to try and process everything that she remembered about House and his emotions. Cuddy remained staring listlessly at the back of the seat and House was tapping his foot softly yet extremely impatiently.

When they reached the house Jenny was shocked to see House practically bolt from the front seat and move to the back of the car, pulling Cuddy out with a grunt.

"Greg, you're going to hurt yourself!" the blonde protested, scrambling from her seat and around the trunk of the car. She stopped in her tracks though when she was on the receiving end of House's blue stare.

"Get the spare key and open the door. It's under the flowerpot." He said, his gaze softening as it wandered down to the helpless woman in his arms. Jenny sighed, running up the steps and hunting for the elusive piece of metal. She waved it about triumphantly after a moment and then shoved it into the lock, clicking the door open and allowing House to pass her and head down the hallway.

"Not even going to ask how you know the way to her bedroom!" Jenny laughed, jogging back to the car to retrieve his bag from the floor of the front seat. When she got back into the house, she followed the trail of lights, finding House and Cuddy in the bathroom. He had her seated on the closed lid of the toilet, crouching in front of her and gently taking her top off. The tap in the bathtub was running, filling the large porcelain basin with warm blue-ish liquid.

"She'd hate to wake up covered in dirt and blood stains," House explained, pulling her shoes off and tossing them into one corner of the bathroom. Jenny sighed, her eyes dropping to the floor.

"Oh Greg...I didn't realize that this was the same Lisa you were smitten with in collage..."

XxXxXxXxX

_Greg House was sitting on one of the benches on campus, his blue eyes intently watching a few of the female students who were seated under a large oak tree quizzing each other for their exams. His eyes focused on one girl in particular – one with bright blue eyes and glossy dark hair. She was laughing at something one of her friends said, head thrown back towards the sky. _

"_You invite me here for a party and yet you can't take your eyes off that little brunette. Nice Greg, real nice," a female voice said as two arms were slung around his shoulders. He jumped slightly, turning his head to look over at the blonde who was hanging off of him. _

"_It's nice to see you too Jen," he replied, rolling his eyes and shoving her off of him. _

"_Oh, touchy, aren't we? So, you going to tell me who that little thing is?"_

"_Lisa Cuddy. She's two years younger than me. Brilliant girl though," House answered as Jenny jumped over the back of the bench, landing on the cool wood next to him. _

"_Ohhh, so that's the Lisa you were moaning about when you fell asleep on the phone with me the other day. At least I have a face to connect to the name now. So, when are you going to ask her out?" Jenny asked, a smirk covering her face. _

"_One day," House replied, his gaze not leaving the dark haired woman's figure. "One day." _

XxXxXxXxX

Jenny just watched House sigh, his gaze dropping to the floor in front of him.

"It doesn't matter Jennifer. Can you just help me get her into the tub please?" he asked, removing the last articles of her clothing. Jenny nodded, moving to his side and helping him to lower Cuddy into the warm water. House grabbed a cloth, lathering some soap onto it before skimming it over Cuddy's skin. Jenny sat on the edge of the counter, watching how careful the brash doctor was being. She shook her head, wandering back out into the bedroom. Once there she dug around through the laundry basket, finding a simple pair of flannel pyjama pants and a blue cotton t-shirt along with some underwear. Bringing the pile of clothes back into the bathroom she found House lifting Cuddy up, sighing with relief when she was able to put her weight on her own feet and remain upright.

"It's a start," Jenny commented, putting the clothes down on the closed toilet lid while House struggled to towel dry his boss.

"I think I'll be fine now Jenny. Thanks for your help," House said, grabbing a brush from the counter and gently running it through Cuddy's tangled hair.

"Are you sure? I can-" she started.

"No. It's fine. I can take care of her." House retorted, voice firm. Jenny sighed.

"You know my number if you need anything," she answered. She reached over, squeezing House's shoulder before walking out of the room, leaving the residence with a soft thud from the front door.

House turned back to Cuddy, a small jolt of relief shooting through his body when he saw that her eyes were more focused and no longer stared deftly at the wall.

"Let's get you dressed Cuddles," he said, voice more tender than he would ever want to admit.

XxXxXxXxX

_**A/N:**_ And there you have it. More will come...soon-ish. Can't give an exact date because classes resume this week and therefore my time goes bye-bye. (Cept in astronomy seeing as I never pay attention.)

Please review? Please? I'll give you chocolate!


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's Note:**_ Sorry that I haven't updated this in forever. My laptop hard drive died and I had to get a new one, then wait for the recovery discs to come in the mail, and, of course, I had this entire chapter on my old hard drive which meant I had to re-write the entire thing. Again, sorry for the delay.

_**Disclaimer:**_ I only own Jenny. Everyone else belongs to David Shore and FOX.

XxXxXxXxX

House gently guided Cuddy back into her bedroom, sitting her down on the edge of the bed as he went back to the bathroom to get the pyjamas that Jenny had found. When he returned, he found Cuddy watching him intently, her head cocked slightly to one side, as if she didn't really understand what was going on around her.

"I'm not going to hurt you Cuddy – I'm just going to help you get dressed," House said, kneeling down on the floor with a grimace as he slipped the underwear and pyjama pants over her feet and up her calves. "Can you stand up for me?" he asked when he reached her knees. Cuddy just blinked at him for a moment before standing up on shaky legs. House stood again, gripping her around the waist with one hand as he pulled the clothing up the remainder of her legs as quickly as possible. The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally touch her somewhere that would send her into a psychosis. She practically fell back down into a sitting position the minute he let go of her waist, looking up at him with sadness.

He gave her a gentle smile, or, at least, one as gentle as Gregory House could give, and picked up the t-shirt. Cuddy instinctively raised her arms above her head, causing House to avert his gaze from her chest as he pulled the top over her arms and head, making sure to keep his hands away from her breasts as he pulled the hem down to her waist.

"Alright, time for bed," he told her, lifting her a few inches off the mattress so that he could yank the covers down with his free hand. When he settled her back down onto the golden sheets she just looked at him. `House sighed. What did she want him to do? Did she want him to brush her hair or something? "Is that what you're waiting for? You can't speak to me, yet you want to follow your womanly ways and have your hair brushed before you go to sleep?" he demanded. He hadn't touched anyone's hair but his own in years and the thought alone somewhat scared him. Sure, he had touched other people's hair, but brushing a woman's hair was very different. He hadn't done that since he and Jenny were kids.

XxXxXxXxX

_The ten year old girl walked into the room, brush in her hand and elastics around her wrist. The boy who was sitting there already looked up from his book, a frown on his face. _

"_Greg, I need your help," Jenny said, flopping down on the floor in front of him. _

"_With what?" the eleven year old questioned. _

"_I need you to braid my hair for me," Jenny answered, trusting the brush into Greg's hands and sitting with her back to him. _

"_Excuse me?!" Greg demanded, pulling Jenny so that she was facing him again. _

"_Well, I can't very well do it myself! And my mom isn't home to do it for me…but I have to get ready for when my dad takes me out to dinner tonight," Jenny rushed, her eyes flaring with impatience. Greg just stared at her. "Just do it!" she growled. Greg sighed, shrugging his shoulders as she turned around again. _

"_I don't even know how to do this," he muttered. _

"_Split it into three sections, then cross the right over the middle and make the middle part the right section. Then do the same thing but with the left and middle parts," Jenny muttered, cringing slightly as he pulled at her hair with the brush. "And Greg, try and leave me with some hair, would you?" she added. _

"_Shut up Jenny. If you want me to do this right, you need to be quiet…"_

XxXxXxXxX

House sat behind Cuddy, slipping the brush through her hair with practiced ease. He could imagine Foreman's face if he saw him in such an intimate activity. He'd probably laugh. Or order a head CT to check for brain damage. Or maybe get his stomach pumped because of an overdose of meds or alcohol. House chuckled to himself, tossing the brush onto the nightstand and pulling Cuddy's hair into a braid. She seemed to be relaxed. Or, at least, as relaxed as someone who was suffering from psychological shock could be.

"All done. Now, time for bed," he muttered, standing up and pushing Cuddy down onto the pillow. He covered her with the blankets before grabbing his cane and heading to the door. "I'll be on the couch if you need me," he said, reaching for the light switch.

"Don't!"

House stopped in his tracks, his hand dropping to his side as he swung around, instantly regretting the pressure it put on his bad leg.

Cuddy was sitting up in the bed, eyes wild.

"You want me to leave the lights on?" he asked. Cuddy nodded feverishly. House shrugged. "Alright," he said, moving to leave again.

"…don't," Cuddy said, voice so quiet that he almost missed it. Turning he saw her still looking at him, a gaze of fear in her eyes.

"You want me to stay here?" he asked, almost incredulously. Cuddy nodded again, slower this time, her eyes not meeting his. House sighed. "Fine, but we're turning the bedside lamp on instead of this horrible overhead light," he said, limping over to the bedside and turning on the lamp before returning to the door and turning off the main lights. When he returned to the bed he lay down on top of the covers, watching how Cuddy seemed to calm almost instantly, sinking down into her pillows and letting out a relieved sigh as she closed her eyes.

House watched her for a few moments, intending to just wait until she fell asleep before he would retreat to the living room. He was a male after all, the last thing he wanted to do was unintentionally have a reaction to her close proximity and then scare her into another period of unresponsiveness. He closed his eyes, leaning back against the headboard with his hands together on his stomach. His leg was throbbing but he knew that if he took anymore Vicodin he would be immobile for the rest of the night – not a good thing for someone who was the primary caregiver for someone unable to even dress themselves.

As he lay there, trying to ignore the pounding in his leg and waiting for the sound of Cuddy's breathing to even out Jenny's words kept echoing in his head. _"If you're not careful you could break that poor woman and effectively destroy the Lisa you know."_ Opening his eyes and glancing at the female next to him, House wondered if Cuddy would ever be able to return to who she had been before.

XxXxXxXxX

_House sat in the cold and hard plastic chair of the waiting room, his left leg bouncing due to his nerves. He glanced at the clock for what seemed like the millionth time, realizing he'd been there for two hours. _

"_Greg?" He heard Jenny's voice behind him and swung around. _

"_Jen, how – " he began. _

"_You made a right good piece of work out of her! I gave you one simple instruction. Be. Careful. With. Her. But oh no, the great Gregory House doesn't have to listen to a lowly psychiatrist. Well, I hope you can still do your stupid tests with a boss who is in a constant rerun of mental trauma!" Jenny snapped, eyes flaring. _

"_Wha…what? Let me see her!" he demanded. Jenny rolled her eyes, turning on her heels and heading to the psychiatric wing in a swirl of her white lab coat. House followed her as quickly as he could manage. _

"_I _cannot_ believe you Greg. She was sexually assaulted and what do you do? You nearly rape her while she's sleeping! You're going to be damn lucky if she ever regains normal mental function – and you'll be insanely fucking lucky if she ever forgives you for groping her like you did," Jenny spat. House was utterly confused. _

"_Jenny, I don't even know what you're talking about," he said. Jenny rounded on him._

"_The hell you don't!" she growled. She was about to tear into House again when Wilson appeared from around the corner. _

"_Dr. Chapman? House?" Wilson said. _

"_Dr. Wilson. Here Greg, why don't you feast your eyes on the train wreck you've created," Jenny said, wrenching open one of the doors and shoving House and Wilson forward. Instantly they were struck with the sound of screaming. _

_Cuddy was lying in the middle of the floor, her eyes squeezed shut as she continued to yell. Her arms, legs and torso seemed to struggle against invisible bond and her fingernails were buried so deeply into her palms that blood had begun to pool on the floor. _

"_Oh my God…" Wilson murmured, eyes wide in horror. _

"_You happy now, Greg?" Jenny asked, her voice directly in his ear. "After all, you did this to her."_

XxXxXxXxX

House jolted awake, his voice coming in short pants. He swiped a hand over his forehead, cringing to see it come away glistening in sweat. He looked to his left, finding Cuddy sleeping next to him, her expression calm and neutral. The bedside lamp still glowed, allowing House to easily find his cane and slip out of the room. He found himself in the kitchen, hands shaking slightly as he poured himself a glass of pomegranate juice. He hated to be this worried, this vulnerable. Cuddy's attack had affected him more than he liked. If that wasn't bad enough, his subconscious was wrestling with the fear of making her worse due to his personality and his sexual attraction to her.

"God damnit," he muttered, gripping the edge of the counter as tightly as he could, considering the pain that was in his knuckles. He knew what his mind was doing, knew that it was struggling with grief, wondering frantically why this had to happen to Cuddy of all people.

House nearly fell when he felt his cell phone vibrating in his pocket. He whipped it out, glaring at the small screen that glowed blue in the darkened room. It was Wilson.

"What?!" House demanded once the phone was pressed against his ear.

"House, is everything okay?" Wilson's concerned voice said through the speaker.

"Why wouldn't things be alright?" House demanded, his heart rate slowing down as he limped over to the table, sitting down in one of the chairs, his head resting in his hand.

"Well…you've normally called me by now. It's almost three in the morning. When was the last time you let me get a complete night's sleep?" Wilson asked. House groaned. Wilson was right. He always called to disrupt his friend's sleeping pattern, only not bothering him when he was too drunk or high on Vicodin that he couldn't reach the phone. "House? You there?"

"Yeah. Things are…alright. Didn't mean to make you worry… I've gotta go though," House muttered, standing up and heading back to the bedroom.

"Greg, seriously, what's the matter?" Wilson pressed further, his voice somewhat frantic now. House sighed. He didn't want to tell anyone what happened to Cuddy. It wasn't their business. She would hate for the entire hospital to know that she had almost been raped at a night club. Groaning he ran a hand through his hair, standing in the doorway of the bedroom and watching Cuddy toss and turn in her sleep.

"I'll tell you later Jimmy. Goodnight," House said, flipping his cell phone closed. No sooner had he shut the device and slipped it back into his pocket Cuddy woke up, throwing the covers off herself and bolting into the bathroom. House followed her as quickly as he could.

XxXxXxXxX

_**A/N:**_ There we have it. I don't know when the next chapter will be up. I have a bunch of assignments due and there is a lot of other crap going on as well.

Please review – I need something to keep my mind off of my dog's declining health.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's Note: **_Okay, so half of this was scribbled down on my laptop during psyche so ignore any random inserts about psychology. The other half was typed in mass-hyper drive while I should have been working on my lit review, but I wanted to get this chapter up before I leave for BC. Thanks to Alicia for editing.

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own these characters. Please don't sue me, I can't afford a lawyer and none of my friends have passed their BAR exams yet!

XxXxXxXxX

House realized that dropping to his knees on the floor after carrying someone for more than a minute was indeed a _very _bad idea when pain shot through his leg. Nevertheless, he knelt behind Cuddy, rubbing her back gently. The woman was hunched over the toilet, emptying the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl, her body heaving with the effort. House bit his lip. He wasn't good with this kind of thing. He wasn't the kind of guy who would be in the bathroom with his wife or girlfriend was being sick, rubbing her back and telling her soothing things. It was against his personality type. He just really wasn't the soft, concerned, caring type… at least, not on the outside.

Cuddy collapsed against him, tears streaming down her face. House swallowed. He knew she needed reassurance, knew she needed him to not be an ass. For _once _in his life, she needed him to be a caring, concerned human being. The image of her from his dream came back into his mind. The sight of her lying on the floor, screaming, her body desperately trying to flail as she was forced to relive the psychological trauma over and over again - it made him want to scream. Instead, he took a deep breath, gently wrapping his arms around the delicate woman in front of him.

"It's okay Cuddy, I've got you. You're safe. It's all over." He whispered into her hair. The words felt strange on his tongue. How long had it been since he had said something caring to her? Ten, twenty years? He couldn't even remember. He reached over the edge of the bathtub, grabbing a face cloth and wetting it under the tap. He felt Cuddy shaking against him as he passed the cloth over her lips and chin, cleaning her face as best he could from only being able to see her profile.

"I'm cold," Cuddy whispered, her voice raw.

"Then let's get you back to bed," he replied, heaving himself off the floor with the help of his cane. He flushed the toilet, tossing the flannel back into the bathtub before he reached his hand down, helping Cuddy to her feet and gently leading her back to the bedroom. She leaned heavily against him, her strength seeming to dissipate even more with each passing step. House wondered if her aspiration level was depleting. She had seemed so determined to walk when they started their trek back to the bedroom but now, as they crossed the threshold, she seemed to be losing more and more of her strength. Perhaps she thought it better to just collapse on the ground and remain there? "Come on Cuddy, couple more steps," House said, grunting with effort as he finally managed to get her to the bed. Cuddy crumpled onto the mattress, shivering violently. House hoped she wasn't going into withdrawal or anything. The last thing he needed was for her to be immobile and sick to her stomach. He pulled the covers up over her body, tucking them in around her as best he could while trying to ignore the fact that she was still crying profusely.

"Please stay," Cuddy begged him, her blue eyes meeting his in a fit of uncertainty.

"I…uh…I'm not good at this kind of thing Cuddy, you know that," House muttered, looking down at his hands so that he didn't have to see the broken expression on her face. She let out a strangled sob, forcing him to look up again.

"I…I just…I just-" she cried, closing her eyes. "Please, I just need you to hold me," she finally managed. House swallowed hard, remembering how Jenny had yelled at him in his dream, saying that he had molested Cuddy in her sleep. The memory alone made him want to run from the room. Hell, he wanted to run from the house and pretend that nothing had ever happened. But one thing stopped him. The sight of Cuddy lying on the bed, blankets tucked up around her and tears sliding down her cheeks, over her nose and onto the pillow beneath her.

She needed him. And damn him if his heart didn't break at the thought of leaving her in such a state all by herself. Normally he would have made a joke to cover his discomfort. He would have said that this had all been an act to get him into her bed. But the thought of degrading her using a joke about sex left a bitter taste in his mouth and made him want to be sick to his stomach. He couldn't do it. Couldn't be the one to cause her more emotional pain that night.

"Alright," he whispered, limping to the other side of the bed and crawling onto it. He lay beside her, allowing her to cuddle close and into his arms. "I'm warning you, I snore," he said, looking directly into her wet eyes. Cuddy smiled weakly, burying her face into his shirt. He knew that sometimes physical contact could establish a mental connection to keep someone suffering from psychological trauma grounded. He remembered when he was in Egypt he had witnessed a man holding his wife after she was assaulted. The feeling of someone so familiar had kept her from going in to shock and, ultimately, saved her life.

"Thank you," she sighed, hands clutching at his clothes softly as she drifted to sleep. House didn't dare move. He just lay there, letting her hold onto him as she slept. He glanced down at her now and again, watching how she would unintentionally wince in her sleep when she took too deep a breath, making her stitches stretch slightly.

He wondered if she would try and go back to work in the morning. She was a stubborn person and would want to get on with her duties at the hospital as soon as she could. House didn't think it was wise for her to go. There would be so many questions as to why she was covered in bruises and had stitches on her cheek. The other male doctors would fix her with their leering stares like they always did, eyes focuses on her ass or her breasts rather than her face. House himself was guilty of this on more than one occasion, but he doubted he would be able to do that to her again anywhere in the near future.

Cuddy whimpered in her sleep, her face scrunched up in disgust or fear; House couldn't tell. He pulled her towards him even more, rubbing his hand on her back in small circles.

"It's alright. You're safe. He can't hurt you anymore," he whispered into her hair, finding the reassurance easier than he had the first time. He was so used to being confined behind his walls of sarcasm and malice that the feeling of being kind and caring was almost new to him. He had been different as a child, Jenny could attest to that, but his father had seemingly ground almost all of the nice-genes out of him. His mood had only gotten worse since the infarction. But now, as he lay there in the semi-darkness of the early morning with Cuddy in his arms, his chest ached.

Carefully he slipped his phone out of his pocket, opening an internet browser and typing up an email. He knew Cuddy would be cross with him when she found out he was emailing her secretary with instructions to cancel all her meetings and appointments for the next few days. He didn't care though. She would need time to process what happened, not to mention time to heal. And, if he knew Jenny, which he did, she would most likely be calling to demand that Cuddy had another psyche evaluation and most likely some counselling. House wanted to roll his eyes. Since when did counselling work anyway?

He yawned as he sent the email through under Cuddy's name. She could beat him later. Tossing the phone onto the bedside table where the lamp remained lit, he closed his eyes. He desperately wanted to fall asleep and wake up to find that this had all been a dream. He knew from experience though that this was anything but one of his dreams or hallucinations. His eyes started to close but he forced them back open. He would never admit it to anyone, but he was scared that if he fell asleep he would live out his dream and push Cuddy into a severe case of PTSD. He didn't think he could live with himself if he did that to her. He'd done enough damage to the woman in his arms when he told her she would be a horrible mother.

House forced his eyes open again, glancing at the clock and seeing that it was nearly four in the morning. He'd been up for over twenty four hours, having had to keep his patient alive the night before, and not yet being able to return to a state of sleep. Even as he contemplated the case again in his mind, his eyes began to slide shut, and soon, he too was asleep.

XxXxXxXxX

House awoke to the smell of cinnamon. He jerked slightly as his eyes opened, finding Cuddy still clutching onto his shirt, her eyes closed and breathing deep. She was still fast asleep – and fully clothed. House breathed a sigh of relief as he gently moved away from her, slipping out of the bed and limping out of the room. Once he had been to the bathroom he went into the kitchen. Knowing Cuddy, she was one of those neurotic people who had the coffee maker or kettle on a timer. Instead, however, he found a package of cinnamon buns on the table, along side two large coffees, cream and sugar in packages next to them. Squinting against the light and the overwhelming smell of cinnamon, House managed to read the note attached to the packet.

_ Greg,_

_ Hope everything went alright last night. You didn't call, so I'm assuming Lisa was alright. Despite how you're going to say this is bullshit, I'd really like for you to have her come back and see me at the hospital. If she doesn't want to come back to Hightstown, that's fine, I can come there. But please, she needs to see someone. Or at least have someone to talk to about the whole situation. If she feels more comfortable talking to you then please, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, listen to her! Lisa needs everyone to be patient and understanding right now. Especially you Mr. I-have-no-patience-and-am-an-arse. Call me if you need anything.  
_

_ - Jenny_

_ PS – She probably shouldn't go back to work for a couple days. And try to keep her away from any assault victims. Stitches to be removed in ten days. You can do it for her. If she lets you. :P _

House rolled his eyes, shaking his head. Only Jenny would be so neurotic that she felt the need to bring coffee and cinnamon rolls over after a hard night. He smelled them again, wondering if she had made them. She always used to make them when they were growing up, knowing that he had an incorrigible sweet tooth.

"House?" Cuddy asked, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. She was rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, looking at him with a sleep-laden expression.

"Hey," he replied. "Coffee? Cinnamon bun?" Cuddy blinked a few times before she seemed to notice that there were items of food and drink on her kitchen table.

"Um….are they….safe?" she questioned, moving towards him slowly.

"Yeah, they're fine. Jenny, she's a friend of mine, she brought them over. Don't worry, she didn't break in. I told her where the key was last night when… well… Cuddy… Lisa, how much do you remember about last night?"

XxXxXxXxX

_**A/N:**_ There you have it. I know House is a bit OOC, but whatever. He probably would be in a situation like this…. Right? ALSO, I have nothing against counselling, so please, don't yell at me for that comment. It was mostly sarcasm. I've attended counselling and found it very helpful, I just figured House would be one to think it was bullshit. This will probably be the last chapter for a little while seeing as I'm going out to British Columbia on Thursday and have two assignments to finish before then. Whoo. Going. To. Die.

Please review! I'll give you candy! Or coffee and cinnamon buns if you prefer. haha


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's Note:**_ Kay, so I started writing this before I left for BC so it may seem a little choppy. (Especially since it was written in about four different notebooks as well as typed on my laptop during my linguistics class.) Hope you like it. Thanks to Leesha for beta.

_**Disclaimer:**_ I own nothing! 'Cept Jenny, but I'm thinkin' you already know that.

XxXxXxXxX

Cuddy watched House for a moment, her expression becoming cold. She strode past him, grabbing a cinnamon bun and one of the cups of coffee before leaving the room and heading back into the living room. House groaned slightly, limping after her as quickly as he could.

"Cuddy, you need to talk about this!" he said, catching up to her just before she had a chance to turn the television on. He snatched the remote, tossing it into the basket of magazines that was at the end of her couch.

"There's nothing to talk about House. Nothing. Nothing happened, get over it," Cuddy answered, digging through the basket until she wrangled the clicker and managed to turn on the television. House sat down on the edge of the coffee table gingerly, trying to get Cuddy to look at him instead of the television. He was desperately trying to remember the course he had taken on mental health and mental trauma, but he was running dry on ideas and knowledge. It was times like this he wished he had gone to some of Jenny's psychology classes.

"Lisa, look at me," House begged her, gently placing his hand on her arm. She flinched, jerking her limb away until she was able to focus on his features. For a moment she had forgotten who he was. Forgotten that he was the one there, and not… not the other man.

"I…I…um…" Cuddy swallowed hard, closing her eyes as her left hand clenched around the coffee cup. House noticed her knuckles turning white and delicately pried the cardboard container out of her hand before she burned herself. "How…how could he do that? How could I let him?" she asked, her voice so soft that House barely heard her. He watched as tears started to form in her blue-gray eyes, the first of many slipping past her lashes after only a few seconds. "How did I get so weak?!" she demanded suddenly, her sorrow turning to anger as she jumped off the couch and started to pace the room.

"You are not weak Lisa," House told her firmly.

"Really Greg? Then how the hell could this happen?!"

XxXxXxXxX

Wilson was surprised to find a memo on his desk when he got into work. He was even more surprised that the memo was one cancelling the board meeting for that morning. Cuddy never cancelled board meetings, not in all the years that he'd been working for her. After he hung up his coat and put away his briefcase he glanced out the window, noticing that House's office was deserted. That didn't really shock him, though; it was still quite early by House's standards. Wilson pulled on his lab coat, heading towards the stairs, quite intent on asking Cuddy about her sudden decision to cancel the board meeting. He nearly fell over when he got to her office and found it still locked and shrouded in darkness.

"She's not in Dr. Wilson," Nurse Brenda said, juggling a stack of files that she quickly dropped onto Cuddy's assistant's desk. Wilson opened and closed his mouth like a fish for a moment before regaining his composure.

"Is she alright?" he finally managed to ask.

"The email she sent me said she had bronchitis and that she'd be out for the rest of this week and probably most of next as well," Brenda replied, leaning against the desk. "She'll be fine Dr. Wilson; everyone gets sick once in a while."

XxXxXxXxX

"Where the hell is House?" Foreman demanded, looking at the clock for the millionth time that morning.

It was half-past ten; half an hour later than House usually made his appearance.

"Don't look at me, I don't have a clue," Chase answered, watching as Cameron hit the redial button on the phone, trying to call House again. She was rewarded by hearing his answering machine click on. Again.

"Have you guys heard from House?" Wilson asked, poking his head through the door. Foreman gave a loud groan while Chase and Cameron shook their heads. Wilson frowned. "Alright then… I'm going to run over to his place to make sure he hasn't died or anything." With that said, Wilson took his leave from the room.

XxXxXxXxX

Wilson had gone to House's apartment only to find it empty. His bike also wasn't there, meaning he had definitely gone somewhere, but Wilson wasn't sure _when_ or _where_. Checking his watch he saw it was almost eleven thirty. He sighed.

The likelihood of him finding House was slim to none without having any idea of where to look. He decided to take some food over to Cuddy. If she was sick enough not to be at work, he could only guess that she wouldn't be up to cooking either.

XxXxXxXxX

Cuddy was pacing about the living room, her eyes wild like those of a caged animal.

"Cuddy, STOP! You're going to make yourself dizzy!" House pleaded, limping towards her.

"That didn't happen. Last night didn't happen! Josh didn't…. he didn't… he didn't almost-" she broke off after a second, scrubbing her face with her hands. House wanted to embrace her again, to calm her, but he just sat down on the couch, watching her cautiously.

"Does he know where you live?" House questioned after a beat of silence.

"I… I don't think so," Cuddy replied shakily, her eyes focusing on the window for a moment. "How could he have done that to me?" she asked, another tear escaping from her lashes and making a slow trek down her pale yet splotchy cheek.

"I don't know," House responded, his voice soft and sympathetic. A car screeched outside, causing Cuddy to startle. "Hey, it's alright, it's just a car," House said, smiling. Cuddy seemed to calm for a moment until there was a loud pounding at her front door.

She screamed, leaping onto the couch and landing on House. The weight of her on his bad leg, combined with the strain he had put on it last night while he carried her, sent a searing pain blazing through him, but he didn't shove her off; he just shifted her more to the left. Cuddy had her face buried in chest, clinging to him like a child. House could feel her shaking and her tears dampening his shirt. The pounding sounded again, causing her to scoot even closer to him.

"Lisa? It's James. I'm going to use my key, okay?" the voice of the knocker called.

"It's Wilson, Cuddy. It's just Wilson. You're safe," House whispered to her as he heard the door open and Wilson enter.

"Lisa, I brought – Oh my God," Wilson said, nearly dropping the bags he was carrying. The sight that greeted the oncologist was one he never expected. Cuddy was curled up in House's lap, hanging onto him for dear life. House, in return, had his arms around her back, holding her to him in what Wilson could only describe as a severely protective manner. What struck Wilson the most however, were the dark black and blue bruises that covered Cuddy's arms. Wilson put the bags down, his eyes portraying his worry. He went to move towards the couch but stopped immediately when House help and a hand and fixed him with a look that Wilson seldom saw on his best friend's face. Fear. "What happened?" Wilson asked, his gaze again drawn to the bruising on Cuddy's arms. He could hear the woman sobbing, refusing to lift her head from its place on House's chest.

"Make him leave, make him leave!" Cuddy cried.

"James, please, just go. And don't say anything about this to anyone at the hospital," House said, his voice pleading. The use of his proper first name made Wilson nod, moving to leave the house.

"I… um, I thought she had bronchitis so there's some soup and stuff in those bags… call if you need anything," Wilson hollered, closing the door behind himself. House rubbed circles on Cuddy's back, kissing the top of her head.

"It's alright," the diagnostician said, "he's gone." House felt Cuddy relax against him, but her grip didn't loosen at all. He wasn't really sure how long they sat there, but he knew it was long enough for both his legs to fall asleep. He felt Cuddy's hands fall to her sides and her breathing evening out as she fell asleep again. He didn't realize how emotionally draining it was for her just to try and process what had happened. And her reaction to Wilson… it was so weird; so unexpected.

As gingerly as he could, House got up, laying Cuddy down on the couch and pulling the blanket up over her. Once he was sure she was comfortable and still asleep he stumbled about, putting the food Wilson had brought into the fridge before going out onto the porch. He sighed in relief and yet also in agony when he saw that Wilson was no longer outside. If truth be told he would have revelled in having his best friend there to help him; but after Cuddy's reaction… he didn't know what he should do.

Pulling his phone from his pocket again he called Jenny's number, resting the device against his ear as the phone rang a few times. Just as the answering machine clicked on there was a loud beep, followed by Jenny's breathless voice on the line.

"Dr. Jennifer Chapman," she said, her voice professional and calm.

"Jenny, it's Greg," House sighed, rubbing at his eyes as he sat down on the top step.

"Greg! Is everything alright?" the female psychiatrist rambled, no longer sounding like a doctor but a concerned friend instead.

"I think so," House replied. "Although I'm kind of wishing that I'd come to some of your mental health classes." Jenny laughed slightly.

"Well Greg, not everyone can be a diagnostician, but the same goes for psychiatrists. Are you feeling insecure taking care of Lisa?" Jenny questioned. House scrubbed a hand over his face, groaning. He hated how scared he was actually feeling. He'd worked so hard to banish his emotions of fear and insecurity. But that damn woman asleep on the couch inside was breaking down the walls he had worked so desperately to create after his infarction.

"Wilson came over to bring her some food. Thought she had bronchitis. Don't blame him for thinking that though – that's what I wrote in the email that I sent to the hospital last night so that they didn't ask questions as to why Cuddy didn't call them to say she'd be away. But Jen… she was terrified of him. I don't get it! I mean, it was _Wilson_!" House rambled.

"Is she calmer now?"

"Yeah, she's asleep again."

"Is James still there?"

"No. She begged to have him leave. She wouldn't even look at him. She just clung to me. I mean, fuck! I'm an _ass_! Wilson is the charming, nice, teddy-bear type! Why wouldn't she kick me to the curb and take him instead?" House demanded.

"Because, you saved her Greg. Her mind is still struggling to come to terms with what happened, but she knows that you were the one to take her out of that bad situation. Listen; keep her calm, I'm going to come over around three. If you can, tell her thatI'm coming over just to talk to her. I'd ask you to bring her to my office, but after hearing how she reacted to James, I don't think that would be a very good idea… it could make her relapse back into psychological shock if she's not ready."

XxXxXxXxX

_**A/N: **_Alright, there's that. I'm extremely cranky at the moment cos my boss is an IDIOT and put me on cakes for Sunday and I have NO idea how to do the airbrushed ones and there are a couple and UGH. Going to beat him up. On the good side of that, when I'm angry, I write, so more story soon?

Please review. I'm going to bribe you with sneak peeks of the next chapter this time.

You can pick either:

a) a cute moment between House and Cuddy

b) a snippet of Cuddy's "session" with Jenny

c) another little clip of House and Jenny as kids.

The choice is up to you – but only if you review :) (Ignore my rhyming)


	9. Chapter 9

_**Author's Note:**_ Okay, so I finally finished all my stupid assignments. YAY. They took FOREVER. I tell you, university is brutal. Anyway, here's the next chapter. Not too sure when the next is gonna be up. Thanks to Alicia for BETA.

_**Disclaimer:**_ I own Jenny and nothing more.

XxXxXxXxX

When Cuddy awoke on her couch she found House limping back from the kitchen, a plate of eggs and toast in his cane-free hand. She wanted to say something in the way of thanking him, but she just blushed slightly, looking down at her hands.

House plonked himself down on the couch by her feet, picking up a piece of toast and raising it to his lips, trying not to laugh at the disgruntled noise that Cuddy made.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want some?" he joked. Cuddy frowned at him, wrapping her arms around herself and snuggling deeper into the blanket. "Hey, I was just kidding," he said quickly, tossing the toast back onto the plate and shoving it towards her. "I figured you'd be hungry after only eating a few bites of your cinnamon bun." _God_, he thought,_ when the hell did I become a House-Wife?!_

"Thanks," Cuddy mumbled, picking up a slice of orange and nibbling at it. She paused after a moment, her sad blue eyes moving from the food in front of her over to House's leg. "Did I hurt you?" she questioned, her voice soft and insecure.

"Its fine," House responded, unconsciously rubbing said limb. "Do you remember my friend Jenny?" Cuddy seemed to ponder the name for a moment, munching on her toast.

"She came to see you when you had the infarction, and Stacey glared at her… They didn't get along, did they?" House smirked, shaking his head.

"Stacey constantly thought that Jen and I were sleeping together. She never really grasped the concept that Jenny is like a sister to me. As for Jen… well, she had different ideas as to who my perfect mate should be," he explained.

"Jenny is the one who sends Wilson those text messages when you end up in the hospital, isn't she? Did you know that she tells him to kick you in your bad leg to get you back in line?" Cuddy queried, smiling softly. House rolled his eyes.

"Yeah… that sounds about right… Listen though; Jenny was there when I took you to the hospital last night… She performed your psych-evaluation… She thinks it'd be good for you to talk to her about what happened." House said. He watched as Cuddy frowned, stabbing her toast more violently into the eggs.

"I don't need to talk to anyone," she spat after a moment.

"Cuddy, you were terrified of _Wilson!_ He'd never even hurt a fly! I mean, look at him! He works with cancer kids!" House rebelled, trying to pry the crushed toast from her fingers before she smashed her appendages into the plate. "Jenny is coming over very soon. If you don't want to talk to her, fine. But you have to tell her _why_ you don't," he finished. Cuddy glared at him for a moment before sighing.

"Why do you care whether or not I talk to someone? I'm fine, House," she groaned.

"Because! Believe it or not, Cuddles, I care about you. I don't want to see you end up in the loony bin. I'd be without a job if you weren't at work anymore!" he said, voice hoarse. Cuddy's eyes softened at his words. She hadn't thought of him actually caring for her. She was about to say something to him when a knock sounded. Unlike before, Cuddy didn't leap into his lap; but the fragile woman visibly jumped, scooting closer to House until she was able to wrap herself around his side, her legs in his lap. "It's open Jen!" House called, doing his best not to yell in Cuddy's ear. The door clicked open and shut again, the sound of high-heels clicking on the hardwood.

"Hey," Jenny said, gently placing her jacket on the back of an arm chair. She then took a seat in it, watching Cuddy with caring but interested eyes. House knew instantly that she was analyzing Cuddy's posture.

"Cuddy, this is Jenny Chapman. She's a psychiatrist," House explained.

"It's nice to see that you're doing better, Lisa," Jenny interjected, smiling calmly.

"Nice to meet you," Cuddy replied, not really looking up.

"You don't really want to talk to me about this, do you?" Jenny stated. Cuddy snorted, eyes on the ground.

"I'm just going to go… read or something while you two talk," House said awkwardly, standing and limping off into the den.

"Do you remember what happened last night, Lisa?" Jenny pressed.

"Nothing happened," Cuddy muttered, pulling on a thread that had started to unravel on her blanket. Jenny watched her carefully, scribbling down a few notes on the notepad that was spread on her lap.

"Alright, well, if you don't want to talk about last night, why don't you tell me about your childhood?" Jenny continued.

"What the fuck does my childhood have to do with anything?!" the dark haired woman seethed.

"Nothing, save for the fact that how you grew up has formed who you are now. The fact that you don't want to talk about last night implies that you always felt insecure talking about your problems when you were a child. It also suggests that you felt that you needed to be the strong one once you entered the adult world. Denial isn't going to make anything go away, Lisa. You can procrastinate talking about it all you like, and I can sit here analyzing every movement you make and everything about your childhood just from the way you respond to questions or move your hands. But it won't change things. Not talking is just going to make things harder for you later on," Jenny said. Her voice was calm but firm, showing that she had no problem telling it like it was when she needed to. Cuddy just gaped at her.

"I don't need you to analyze me! I don't need any of this shit!" Cuddy screamed, throwing the blanket off her lap and storming into the kitchen. Jenny remained in the chair, making notes as House limped in from the den.

"She's just as stubborn as you are Greg," Jenny said, not bothering to look up from what she was doing.

"I thought you said that we shouldn't push her too hard," House responded. Jenny sighed.

"She _needs _to talk about this, Greg. She can deny what happened all she wants, but it's not going to make these problems go away. The first step to getting through something like this is to accept that it happened. After that, the healing can begin. But she needs to open up about it. Denial only hurts people more," Jenny answered. House nodded, his eyes on the ground.

"I'll try and get her to talk," he said quietly, limping off towards the kitchen. Jenny watched him go, smiling softly. What had happened to Lisa was horrible… but, at the same time, it was helping House to stop being so emotionally detached. It was making him more human. Jenny scribbled another point down on her notepad. Maybe this situation wasn't _all_ bad.

XxXxXxXxX

Cuddy ran from the room and into the kitchen, despite Jenny calling after her with a concerned voice. She couldn't do it. She couldn't talk about it. She didn't care if she was in denial. Hell, if it kept her from feeling the way she did at that moment she didn't care if she remained in denial for the rest of her life. Her arms were shaking as she gripped the edge of the kitchen counter – her knuckles turning white. She could hear the blonde woman in the other room talking rapidly and with a worried voice, saying something along the lines of '_she needs to talk about this Greg. She won't be able to get past it if she doesn't accept that it happened.'_ But she didn't care.

"Cuddy?" House's voice sounded. He was right behind her.

"I'm not talking anymore," she snarled, glaring at the rain that had started to pound down outside. It suited her mood perfectly.

"I wasn't asking you to. I was going to ask you if you had any scotch. I could use a drink," House continued, starting to go through her cupboards. Cuddy growled, slapping his hands away from another cabinet before opening the one beneath it, pulling out the bottle of alcohol and shoving it at him. He grunted slightly at the feeling of the glass container being shoved into his chest. "Gee, thanks," he said, grabbing a glass from the counter next to the sink and pouring himself some. He looked back at the dark haired woman. She was standing with her arms wrapped around herself now, eyes still on the backyard. House leaned against the kitchen counter, watching the scotch sitting in his glass but making no move to drink it. "Last night doesn't make you weak, Cuddy," House said after a moment.

"Really, how's that?" she shot back, eyes flaring.

"You were drugged! Flunitrazepam made you unable to fight back, none of it was your fault!" he responded.

"You would have never let it happen to you!" she screamed at him.

"Who the fuck would want to rape me?! I'm a fucked up old cripple who no one but a parasite-filled teenager wants! You… You're a gorgeous, strong, successful woman who refuses to take shit from anyone. You want to know _why_ he tried to rape you? It's because he knew he wasn't good enough to be with someone like you!" House yelled, gripping so tightly on the glass that he nearly caused it to shatter. Cuddy just stood there for a moment, watching House's heaving chest. She rarely saw him speak so passionately about anything. The fact that he spoke like that to her, about her, made her heart flutter.

"I'm not that strong, House," she said quietly, gently prying the glass from his hand before he could break it. The minute the cup was safely on the counter House grabbed her chin, his touch feather-light as he forced her to look up at him. He gazed into her eyes, seeing the insecurities there. The resounding fear. The shame.

"You're not weak either," he whispered, leaning down and softly kissing her on the forehead. Cuddy wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him close to her. "You need to talk about this," he said quietly. Cuddy sighed.

"I know," she breathed, not moving from his embrace. "Will you stay with me when I talk to Jenny? I'm still kind of fuzzy about what happened… I could use some help filling in the gaps." House buried his nose in her hair, nodding his consent against the crown of her head.

"Yeah, I'll stay," he told her, finally releasing the now calmed Jewish doctor from his grasp. Cuddy smiled up at him softly. They stood in silence for a few moments, just looking at one another until House started to feel slightly awkward. He cleared his throat, averting his gaze to the doorway where he found Jenny standing. Cuddy glanced over to the blonde, flushing slightly.

"I'm ready to talk," Cuddy said.

"Good," Jenny answered with a smile as Cuddy slipped past her and back into the living room.

"How much of that did you see? Or hear, for that matter?" House asked. The blonde just laughed slightly, shaking her head.

"Oh, I heard more than enough to have blackmail material on you until the day I die. Not to mention the fact I could shatter your image of being an ass within about twenty seconds," she grinned. House groaned.

"I hate you," he said to her, going back into the living room. Jenny just rolled her eyes.

XxXxXxXxX

"Can you tell me what you remember from last night?" Jenny asked Cuddy again. They had resumed their places in the living room, only this time House was seated next to Cuddy, his feet propped up on the coffee table.

"I… I don't remember too much after getting to the club…" Cuddy replied.

"Why don't you tell me about how you met this man and when you got to the club? Maybe it will help loosen up your memory," Jenny suggested. Cuddy glanced over at House nervously, only to see him nod in reassurance and signal for her to go on.

"Well, um, I met Josh online a couple weeks ago and he asked me to go out with him. I guess… I guess I just figured it would be fine to go out with him because he invited me to such a public place," Cuddy began, her voice wavering slightly. She stopped, seeming to be collecting her thoughts for a moment. Jenny shot House a look, as if prompting him to help the battered woman continue with her tale.

"What happened when you go to the club?" House asked, rolling his eyes at Jenny before he turned his gaze on Cuddy. He now remembered why he was horrible on his psych rotation. He just didn't have the patience or attention span for the slow-forming stories.

"I met Josh by the bar. He'd bought us both some beer and… and I just drank it. I… I guess that's where the Flunitrazepam was…" Cuddy said, more to herself than the other two occupants of the room.

"Do you remember what happened after you ingested the Flunitrazepam?" Jenny questioned. Cuddy bit her lip.

"I remember that he and I danced together… but then I started to feel a bit overheated, so I said I was going to go to the bathroom. I… I don't really remember what happened after I left the dance floor… I know I was dizzy and my vision was starting to get a little foggy, but I thought it was just because the club was really warm…" Cuddy was stumbling over her words horribly by the end, her hands balled into fists next to her.

"It's okay to remember," House said, leaning over so that he could whisper in her ear. He had been struck by the sudden urge to reassure her that she was safe. He watched as tears started to slip from her eyes as she squeezed them shut, her entire body starting to tremble.

"I… I was still feeling weird after getting some water in the bathroom so… so I was going to say that I was heading home but… but when I walked out of the bathroom Josh was there… he… he grabbed me and pushed me against the wall. He kept telling me that I was… that I was a slut, and that I wanted him. That I wanted him to… to…" Cuddy was full out crying by then, wrapping her arms around her knees and pulling them up to her chest. House's hand twitched. He wanted to hug her, but he didn't know if he should. He glanced over at Jenny, needing her reassurance. The blonde had a sad look on her face, her eyes so focused on Cuddy's breakdown that House couldn't catch her attention.

"That's it, Lisa," the psychiatrist said, voice gentle.

"He… he grabbed my hands and pinned them above me while he… while he groped me and… and pushed his… his… into my pelvis. He kept saying that I wanted it… and he kept hitting me across the face," Cuddy whimpered, her hand coming up to the stitches that covered her cheek. "He pu-pushed my skirt up and tore my… my underwear off… and then… he… he was… he was undoing his pants and then… then I was on the ground… I don't know what happened…" she whimpered. She looked over at House, shock in her eyes when she saw the way he was looking at her. "Did you pull him off me?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied. Cuddy was instantly in his lap again, hugging him fiercely.

"Thank you," she breathed against his neck.

"Greg brought you to the hospital after he had taken care of this Josh fellow. You were unresponsive due to having fallen into psychological shock. To be honest Lisa, my biggest fear for you right now is that you develop Posttraumatic Stress Disorder," Jenny was saying as House gently rocked Cuddy back and forth in his arms. Cuddy glanced back at her before disentangling herself from House's lap, but not moving far from him.

"Do…do you think I'm going to?" the brunette questioned.

"There is no exact science to theorizing who does and who does not develop PTSD. There is a higher chance for you to develop it now due to having been involved in a sexual assault. The best thing for you to do is exactly what you're doing. You're remembering what happened and you're openly talking about it. Considering this just happened yesterday, you are doing excessively well," Jenny explained. Cuddy nodded, sniffing loudly. "You did really well today Lisa. Why don't you get some rest for the rest of the day and then give me a call when you're feeling up to talking with me again? Greg can give you the number."

"Okay…thank you," Cuddy responded. "I… I'm going to go to the bathroom," she added after a moment, picking herself up off the couch and then wandering to the bathroom. Jenny sighed, closing her notebook and leaning back in her chair.

"She did well, Greg," the blonde sighed. House nodded.

"She's resilient. Normally I would make a comment about how her boobs or her ass make her that way, but somehow I just don't think I can do that anymore," House grumbled, poking at the bruises on the back of his hand. Jenny just smiled.

"Try and keep her away from other people for the weekend, unless she wants to see someone, then just make sure you're with her when she's around them. You're her one constant Greg. You're the only one that she feels comfortable with at the moment. Don't screw that up." House watched his oldest friend stand up, pulling on her coat again as she headed for the front door. He stood up, wincing at the pain in his thigh before he moved to follow her.

"What should I tell Wilson?" he called after the blonde, coming to stand next to her on the porch as she looked out at the rain with contempt. "And why didn't you ask her why she was scared of him?"

"These things, these psychological things that deal with physical and emotional trauma take time, Greg. You of all people should know that," Jenny muttered. He looked at her with a bored expression. "The first thing I had to do was to get her to accept what happened. She did. And she even talked about it. These are very big steps to be taking. The Wilson issue can be talked about next time. You can… you can tell him whatever Lisa wants the staff of the hospital to know." She turned to leave, stopping right before she stepped off the porch and into the downpour. "Greg," she started, "when was the last time you saw someone about your PTSD?"

XxXxXxXxX

Muahahahahahaha!! (As requested by Michelle. Sorry, it didn't really fit into the last sentence.)

_**A/N:**_ So because there were so many responses to the last chapter, I have decided to bribe you again. If you review, I'll send you a little snippet of the next chapter. 'Fraid I can't give you a choice this time, but something is better than nothing, right? :)


	10. Chapter 10

_**Author's Note: **_I know, I know. I take forever. School is HELL. Test tomorrow. *groan* Kill me? I'm going to fail because I don't understand anything about it. Ughh. Thanks to Alicia for beta.

_**Disclaimer: **_Don't own anything that you've seen on the telly. Jenny and Milana are mine. Go me?

XxXxXxXxX

House groaned loudly, running a hand over his face while saying: "Jen, right now is really not the time for you to be caring about my mental status. I've got my condition under control though, thanks."

"When was the last time you had a flashback?" Jenny pressed.

"Three weeks ago," he responded, not meeting her eyes.

"That's great, Greg. They're getting further apart! And less severe from what you've told me the last few years," Jenny smiled.

"La de da. Now drop it, Jennifer," he said, turning away from her and going back into the house. Jenny rolled her eyes, stepping out into the rain and heading towards her car. She stopped when she saw Cuddy standing in the backyard, head turned towards the sky.

"Lisa? You're not trying to kill yourself with hypothermia or pneumonia, are you?" the blonde called, running across the grass towards the other female.

"No. I always thought that the rain was cleansing," Cuddy said, face still turned upwards. "I'm trying to get the feeling of that bastard's hands off of me." Jenny nodded, blinking water out of her eyes.

"Don't stay out here too long, Greg will get worried," she said, making to leave again.

"Jenny, does House have PTSD?" Cuddy called. Jenny turned to her.

"Why do you ask?" Cuddy blushed slightly, lowering her gaze to the muddy ground.

"Why? Um… I kind of heard you two talking about it on the porch," the brunette said, causing the psychiatrist to sigh and push her now soaked hair out of her eyes. "I've seen his medical records Jenny. I was his doctor when he had the infarction, and I've never seen any indication of him having a psychological issue. At least, nothing other than being anti-social," Cuddy rushed.

"Yes, he has posttraumatic stress disorder. It's not written in any of his charts because it isn't that relevant. And besides, I'm the one who diagnosed him. He begged me not to put it in… It doesn't affect his work and the only real influences on his personal life are exactly that. It makes him anti-social. Staying away from people is his self defence mechanism. He's dealing with it Lisa, you don't have to worry." Jenny explained.

"When did it start?" Cuddy whispered. Jenny just looked at the other woman. "It was after the infarction, wasn't it? It was all my –"

"_NO. _Lisa, listen to me _very _carefully. This has _nothing_ to do with you. You wanted to respect Greg's choices. Stacy the wonder-bitch didn't. If anyone is to blame for his PTSD, it's her." Jenny interjected. Cuddy laughed slightly at Jenny's name for Stacy. "Honestly though, the groundwork for Greg's condition was set long before he even met you." Cuddy raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

"When Greg and I were kids, we ran into a bit of a problem one night…"

XxXxXxXxX

_They had just been sitting at the edge of the army camp when they were grabbed from behind. All that Greg heard was Jenny's scream before everything went dark. When he woke up it was night, a fire burning a few meters away. He struggled slightly, feeling the ropes tying his hands and legs together. He managed to roll onto his side, finding Jenny lying next to him, her eyes closed. _

"_Jen! Jen! Wake up!" Greg hissed, swinging his legs forwards and knocking his feet against hers. Jenny groaned, opening her eyes and almost instantly starting to panic. "Calm down! We need to be quiet!" Greg snapped. Jenny took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut. _

"_Where are we?" the girl asked. _

"_I don't know. Maybe a rebel camp? Jen… did any of the men… you know…" Greg muttered. _

"_No. I'm not in any pain down there, so no one's raped me," Jenny responded, trying to focus on their surroundings. The two sat in silence for a moment, the only sound disrupting the dark coming from the fire and the creatures of the night. Suddenly there was a scream from the darkness before a line of torches appeared from the forest. Loud chanting in a dialect neither child understood echoed in the night as the dark-skinned men ambled forwards; their faced covered by masks and their skin painted with war colours and dried white mud. _

"_Shit," Greg mumbled, seeing the few prisoners that the masked men were carrying. There were three women and two men, one of which was white, like them. Jenny whimpered, scooting herself closer to her friend as the chanting and the procession grew closer and closer to them. One of the men, was before the rest, brandishing a machete while screaming in tongues that Greg was almost positive were not of this world._

"_He's the Shaman," Jenny hissed in his ear, making him jump slightly. "They… those people, they think that he can speak with the spirit world and that, um, he can tell them what their gods want them to do," she rambled. _

"_Why are you telling me this?" Greg asked her, trying to ignore the fact that the man screeching in tongues was only a few meters away from them now. _

"_Because… My dad said that most Shamans are just people with schizophrenia or some other thing that makes them crazy. They… they usually tell their followers that they have to make sacrifices to their gods and… and I think that we, along with those other people, are going to be their next victims," Jenny whimpered. Greg's eyes widened as his friend spoke. _

"_How the hell do we get ourselves into this kind of thing?!" he demanded angrily. _

"_Bad karma?" Jenny offered. The procession was around the fire by then, dropping their prisoners on the ground before beginning to dance around them, chanting and banging on drums. The women that had been brought there were huddled together, sobbing, while the two men were regarding each other with confusion and contempt at the same time. Suddenly the Shaman let out a call that sounded like a bird, pointing his machete at one of the women. The selected one screeched and sobbed as she was pulled up by her hair and thrown onto the ground in front of the Shaman. _

_He asked her something in a series of clicks from his tongue, but she didn't reply, just lay there crying and covering her eyes with her bound hands. The Shaman raised his machete into the air, a cry of agreement and excitement brought forth from his followers. _

"_Don't look," Greg said to Jenny. The blonde nodded, burying her face into his shoulder. Greg, on the other hand, kept his eyes on the Shaman, watching as he called into the darkness once more before bringing his machete down onto one of the woman's legs, slicing through the flesh but not enough to cut through the bone. The woman howled with pain, kicking at him with her other leg, but it just fuelled him on. He brought the knife down on her again, completely severing her leg from her body, before moving on to her other leg and repeating the process. Greg watched in horror as the man picked up the woman's severed legs, raising them above his head and dancing about the fire. The other men gave a cheer, making Greg want to vomit. _

"_What happened?" Jenny asked. _

"_He… he… he cut off her legs," Greg replied, voice cracking. Jenny let out a soft sob against the fabric of his shirt, not lifting her head. He glanced over towards the fire again, seeing the Shaman asking for the white man now. Greg swallowed hard when he recognized him. He was one of the men that his father worked with. A corporal, if he wasn't mistaken. The man was only twenty or so, not much older than the fifteen year old Greg and Jenny who were cowering together in a heap a few feet away from the slowly dying woman with no legs. Greg wanted to scream, to make them stop from hurting the corporal as he was being dragged over to where the Shaman was standing, but he couldn't form the words. _

"_We're going to die," Jenny cried into his shoulder. _

"_I… I don't know," Greg responded. He wanted to tell her that they were going to be alright, but at that moment, just as the Shaman let out another shriek and cut off one of the corporal's legs, he wasn't so sure that they were going to live though it. "Jen, you're the best friend a guy could ask for, thank you," he whispered to her. _

"_You're the best surrogate brother ever," Jenny said to him as he kissed the top of her head. "If I have to die tonight, I'm just glad that a friend like you is with me." As the Shaman took off the corporal's other leg, the mutilated man screaming in agony all the while, Greg looked on, horrified. The Shaman was about to perform his dance again when a gunshot sounded throughout the clearing, a bullet shooting through the flames of the fire and striking the Shaman in the chest. The other members of the tribe let out howls of fear, scattering out into the dense forest and leaving their other prisoners abandoned in the firelight. There was a loud barrage of gunfire then, screams echoing in the darkness. Greg rolled half on top of Jenny, trying to shield her from the bullets. _

"_It's gonna be okay," he told her, eyes squeezed shut. They could hear American voices screaming through the gunshots before there were pairs of strong hands pulled them from the ground. Jenny's eyes opened only to see her father ripping the ties at her wrists. _

"_Jennifer, are you alright?" Thomas was asking. Jenny nodded, sniffing. "Greg," he began. _

"_I'm fine Mr. Thorton… is… is the corporal alright?" Greg queried. He glanced back towards the fire seeing the legless man grabbing at the arm of the medic weakly. Jenny's father looked over at the other men. _

"_I'm not sure Greg," Thomas answered. Jenny looked up at her dad, tears still falling from her eyes. "Come on kids, let's get you back to camp. Your dad is off chasing those lunatics that did this, Greg, he'll meet us back at camp." Greg nodded, not really caring where his father was. As Jenny's dad led them into the forest Greg's eyes went back to the fire, seeing the severed legs lying by the fire, light flickering off the blood that was still dripping from the limbs. He shuddered. _

XxXxXxXxX

"Oh my God…" Cuddy whispered. They were sitting on the steps of the back porch by the time Jenny had finished telling her what had happened. "Why… why did he never tell me about that?"

"It's not something Greg likes to talk about… but it's also why he was so adamant about keeping his leg when he had the infarction. After seeing something like that, and then having the threat of losing his own leg, or even just a part of it, made the memories of so many years ago come back to him. Right after Stacy had you remove the muscle from his leg, Greg started to have flashbacks to the night we were captured," Jenny was explaining.

"Is… is that why he wouldn't talk to anyone but you and Wilson for the first few weeks after it happened?" Cuddy questioned, shivering slightly.

"I think so. He remembers I was there with him, so he knows I can remember what he sees every time he has a flashback. And Wilson… well, with Wilson it was more of a companionship thing. He felt that Wilson wasn't a threat to him, unlike Stacy. The fact that part of his muscle was removed… to him, it's just as bad as having his leg amputated. And make no mistake here Lisa, if my father and the other soldiers hadn't come when they did, Greg and I would have probably met the same fate as that woman and the corporal. It's that thought alone that makes Greg have problems with his leg. Stacy, in his mind, is the one that did that to him. She condemned him to having part of his leg taken away – to him, she's just as bad as the Shaman was. When he wakes up every morning and sees that missing piece of tissue it brings him back to that night and makes him think about losing his leg completely. It seems somewhat illogical to you and me, but that's how PTSD works," Jenny sighed. Cuddy nodded, rubbing her eyes. "When Stacy came back last year, Greg was trying to be around her not because he still loved her, but because he was trying to get over his condition."

"I can't believe that I never knew…" the brunette said. Jenny shrugged.

"He barely talks to me about it, Lisa, and I was there. You have no idea how hard it was for me to pry that conclusion about Stacy out of him. It took _forever._ Give him time, he may open up to you about it," she responded, standing up. "That's one of the reasons he's here though. He doesn't want you to meet the same fate he has with posttraumatic stress… you mean too much to him for that… You should go back inside and get dried off before you get sick. I best be getting home to my kids. My daughter Milana will probably bring your car around sometime tomorrow; she picked it up from the night club after she finished work last night."

"Wait, your daughter has my car? How'd she get in?"

"My husband works for the government… he kind of taught her how to pick locks and hotwire cars. Not the smartest thing for a teenager, but then again, it could come in handy. Goodnight Lisa." And with that Jenny stood up and walked back around the house towards her Lexus, her hair becoming soaked in water again within a few seconds. Cuddy exhaled loudly, struggling to her feet again before turning back towards the door and entering the house. Her body ached from where her bruises were, and her cheek throbbed from the stitches.

"I see you and Jenny had a nice chat," House said, limping into the kitchen with a towel in his arms. He instantly wrapped it around the shivering woman, gently shoving her towards the stairs. "Go get a warm bath and then dry off. The last thing I need is for you to get hypothermia." Cuddy looked up at House with a small smile, standing up on her tiptoes and giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered before going up the stairs. House just watched her go before flopping down on the couch. He was barely there for more than a few minutes before the lights went out and Cuddy screamed. He was up the stairs in a flash.

XxXxXxXxX

_**A/N:**_ Please review? Please? I'm desperate for things that make me happy right now. Pick a bribe if you like, I'll send you whatever! Ha-ha.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Author's Note: **_Sorry for the long delay. We had to have my one dog put down so I wasn't really in the right mindset to finish this chapter. Also, I'm into exams this week, so not too sure when the next chapter will be up. Will do my best to get it here ASAP. Thanks to Alicia for BETA.

XxXxXxXxX

House swore as he stubbed his toe against a cabinet, but he didn't stop.

"Cuddy?" he called out into the darkness, pushing the bathroom door open with his cane. He was almost instantly attacked by a petite body, water splashing all over his clothes.

"Is he here?" Cuddy asked, clinging to House's torso.

"What? Is who here?" he questioned her.

"Josh. Did he cut the power lines?" Cuddy rushed. House tried not to laugh as he put his arms around her back, only then realizing that she was completely naked.

"Cuddy, the power went out because of the storm," House told her. A clap of thunder sounded outside as if trying to support his point.

"Oh…" Cuddy muttered, dislodging herself from House before going to find herself a towel.

"Where do you keep your candles?" he asked her.

"There's a flashlight in my bedside table," she responded. House limped back out into the bedroom, fumbling around until he managed to locate the mattress. He yanked the drawer open and began fishing through the contents before closing his hand around a cylindrical object. Pulling it out he ran his fingers up and down it, searching for the switch before finding the twist-on top. House shook his head. Only Cuddy would have a twist-on flashlight. He spun the dial, yelping when the cylinder started to vibrate.

"JESUS CHRIST!" he bellowed as he threw the vibrator across the room. "You could have warned me that the flashlight wasn't the only thing in your nightstand!" He could practically feel Cuddy's blush from the other room. "Is there anything else I should be aware of before I go back to hunting for a source of light?" he questioned.

"No… that was the only thing," Cuddy replied. House continued to look for the torch, trying not to laugh at the fact that he could still hear the vibrator buzzing somewhere on the other side of the room. Once he had the flashlight on, he went and found the offensive object, blushing slightly as he turned the purple thing off, tossing it back in the drawer and pretending that he hadn't been handling it. Cuddy came out of the bathroom then, dressed in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, her wet hair pulled back into a ponytail.

"You alright?" House asked her. Cuddy nodded, going over to her dresser and lighting as few candles.

"Sorry if I alarmed you when I screamed," she apologized, coming over to sit down next to him on the bed.

"Its fine," House responded, fidgeting with the flashlight that was still resting in his hand. "I should probably go," he added, standing up, trying to ignore the damp parts of his clothes that were sticking to his skin.

"What?" Cuddy yelped. House swung around to see the panicked look on her face.

"You want me to stay?" he inquired. He knew that Cuddy was still quite jumpy, but he had figured that she would be stubborn and try to get back to her normal life as soon as possible. And that normal life meant him not being a constant fixture in her house. Cuddy blushed, eyes on her hands.

"I'd feel more comfortable with you here… in case Josh tries to come and finish what he started," she replied quickly. Apparently, he was wrong.

"Alright. I'm going to go find food though," House said, picking up his cane and heading for the stairs.

"Bring me something?!" Cuddy called after him. She heard House grumbled a few curse words and she started to laugh. Cuddy sighed, curling up on the bed. She'd never expected House to act this caring about anything. She was still shocked that House had never told her about his condition. And yet, at the same time, she desperately hoped that he had never told Wilson either. She understood it, though. He was already looked upon as different due to his physical inadequacies, and if the other doctors knew he had a mental illness as well….

"Oh Greg…" Cuddy whispered, closing her eyes.

"We're having cereal because I can't cook anything without power and I didn't think you wanted me to try and start a fire in your kitchen," House boomed, dropping the box of HoneyNut Cheerios into Cuddy's lap. The milk was under his arm, the spoons in his pocket and the bowls stuffed into the box with the cereal. Cuddy scooted over on the bed, giggling when House dropped down onto it with a groan, tossing the flashlight onto the nightstand. Cuddy poured them both some of the Cheerios and milk, passing House his bowl before starting other own.

"How's your leg?" she asked between mouthfuls.

"Considering how far I carried that ass of yours last night? Surprisingly well," House retorted. Cuddy's jaw dropped before she retaliated by flinging a spoonful of cereal at him. House groaned, looking down at his milk-covered shirt with contempt before pulling it over his head and chucking it on the floor. Cuddy just rolled her eyes at him. "How are your bruises?" he asked suddenly. Cuddy shrugged. She didn't want to talk about herself anymore.

XxXxXxXxX

House yawned, looking at his watch in the candle light. It was nearly midnight. He smirked slightly, watching Cuddy try to conceal her own yawn behind her hand.

"We should go to bed," he said to her. Cuddy nodded, pushing the crossword they had been doing off the bed and onto the floor. "I'll be downstairs on the couch," he added. Cuddy bit her lip, fidgeting slightly as House went to find a clean shirt from his backpack.

"Can you stay up here?" Cuddy blurted. House looked back at her, watching her blue eyes sparkling in the candle light.

"God woman, you're so clingy!" House smiled, walking back over to the bed while pulling the shirt on over his head. He lay down next to Cuddy, not surprised when she snuggled up against his arm. "I snore," he told her again, assuming she didn't remember him saying the same thing the night before.

"Even in your sleep you can't shut up," Cuddy mumbled against his shoulder. House smirked at her, watching her in the fading candle light as she fell asleep.

XxXxXxXxX

House woke up with the sunlight streaming through the curtains and into his eyes. Cuddy was looking up at him, her chin resting on his chest.

"You okay?" he asked her as she sat up and went to get off the bed.

"I'm fine, just have to go to the bathroom," she replied, giving him a small grin before disappearing behind the door. House yawned, flopping back against the pillows.

XxXxXxXxX

Cuddy stood in the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. There were dark circles under her eyes; the orbs themselves still remaining slightly bloodshot from all the crying that she had done. She went to touch the stitches on the side of her face, brushing her arm against the towel bar in the process. Pain shot up her arm, making her eyes water. Cuddy winced, closing her eyes as tightly as she could before wrenching them open again. She pulled her sweater off, looking down at the bruises that were scattered across her skin. She hadn't really realized how bad they were, choosing to just yank her clothes off and get into the shower immediately the night before.

"Damnit," she swore quietly. Her arms and chest were littered with the dark black and blue marks, the main concentration on her upper arms and breasts. With shaking hands she touched one of them, yelping at the pain it caused. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, nearly passing out. "You have got to be kidding," she muttered, pulling the drawstring of her yoga pants and letting them fall to the floor. The insides of her thighs were peppered with the marks as well, one even landing at the crease between her leg and pelvic area. She felt tears prick at her eyes again. God, what the hell had happened? She turned from side to side, looking at herself in the shined glass with distain. She looked like one of those women who were from the sexual assault cases she had dealt with. She looked like she'd been beaten with a baseball bat or something, save for the marks that were evidently fingerprints.

"Cuddy? You alright? Did you fall in or something?" House's voice asked from the other side of the door. Cuddy bit her lip, trying to calm her breathing.

"No… no, I'm fine House," she answered after a moment.

"Double negative and a positive? Nice sentence structure. I'm coming in there by the way," he said opening the door. Cuddy looked at him with damp blue eyes. House regarded her with something she never thought she would see on his face. Pain. Remorse. Worry. "Jesus, Lise," he whispered, moving towards her slowly. His eyes skimmed over her pale skin, the black, blue and purple marks marring the porcelain. He limped the last few steps between them, raising his hand and gently running it over one of the bruises that was on her arm. He tried to keep his eyes from going down to her bare breasts, not wanting to see the injuries there; nor the ones on her thighs. It pulled at his heart. He hated it. Hated seeing her so weak and hurt.

"I'm okay," Cuddy whispered, her blue eyes looking up to meet House's. He cupped her face suddenly, examining her stitches carefully.

"It's alright not to be as strong as you think you should be. You've been through hell, Lise," he told her. Cuddy nodded, closing her eyes and relaxing. She loved how tenderly he was touching her. The moment was broken by the shrill ringing of House's cell phone from the bedroom. "Sometimes, I hate my minions," he muttered, giving her another quick once over before leaving the bathroom. "Put some clothes on, Cuddy," he added.

"_Where the hell have you been?" _Foreman's angry voice bellowed through the sleek silver device.

"Busy. Why? We have a patient?" House queried.

"_Well… no…"_ Chase's voice replied. House rolled his eyes.

"Why are you calling me? The big bad boss lady isn't there, so why should I be? Besides, she told me to take the next week off. Said that she didn't want me harassing anyone but here. Such a clingy one that. Wants me all to herself," House rambled, trying to sound like himself instead of this overly sensitive, caring person he'd become in the last 48 hours. "Well, she more like coughed those instructions at me on the phone. Sounds like she's contracted pneumonia or something."

"_It's nice to know you're concerned about the health of our boss, House. We'll call you if anything comes up,"_ Foreman added before the line went dead. House turned back around to see Cuddy pulling on another sweater and crawling back onto the bed.

"I don't want to get up… I don't want to remember what happened…" she muttered, curling up on her side and cuddling up to House. He flinched slightly, still wary of her physical proximity to him. He was still scared that he was going to hurt her. He felt her leg curling over both of his, their limbs tangling together as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head.

"Go back to sleep for a while then. I'll be right here when you wake up."

XxXxXxXxX

_**A/N:**_ And there you have it. Bribes are… well…. Cake? I've been making lots of cakes at work lately. I make pretty roses on them!!


	12. Chapter 12

_**Disclaimer: **_I only own Jenny, Milana, Casey, Leason and DiFrancesco. Pretty much, if you see them on TV, they're not mine.

_**Author's Note:**_ I am SO sorry about not updating. Here's a quick list of why I haven't: Exams, Work, Dog broke my laptop and therefore I didn't have it for two weeks, life just being generally complicated. Again, super sorry!

XxXxXxXxX

Jenny was panting as she ran along the sidewalk towards her house. A strong beat of music pounded in her ears from her iPod as she jumped over a tree that had fallen over in the storm the night before. As she looked up to see her dwelling, she groaned. There was a car in her driveway that was most definitely not her own. Nor did it belong to her husband, or anyone else that she wanted to deal with so early on a Saturday morning. The minute she was up the front stairs the front door swung open, her eldest daughter, Milana, standing in front of her with her blonde curls swinging around her face.

"Mom, Uncle James is here. He said it's important…" Milana said, rolling her eyes.

"Does this have something to do with Uncle Greg and Dr. Cuddy?" Casey, the younger of Jenny's two children, asked. Jenny swiped her hair from her face, glaring at her kids.

"Milana, would you take your sister out for coffee or something before she gives the world a little insight into other people's lives?" Jenny snapped. Milana rolled her eyes, grabbing her sister by the shoulder and shoving her towards the door. When they were almost out the door Jenny called to her children.

"Lana, how much did you and Case say to James?" she rushed, voice soft.

"Just that you've been talking to Uncle Greg on the phone and that we had to pick up Dr. Cuddy's car and drop it off at her house last night," Casey piped up. Jenny nodded, waving of her hand to show that she was finished asking questions. As she walked into the kitchen she found Wilson sitting at the table. He shoved a bottle of water towards her, his brown eyes following her every move.

"Do I need to ask you to talk to me or do you already know why I'm here?" Wilson questioned. Jenny was downing the water at a fast pace, trying not to meet his eyes.

"James… " she started.

"Jenny, look, there's something very, very wrong with Lisa. I went over there yesterday and… she… she wouldn't even look at me. She started screaming for me to get out. I don't know what to do! She was clinging to House and crying and… God Jen, what happened to her?" Wilson rambled, hands flailing about as he spoke. Jenny sighed, rubbing her eyes.

"James-" Jenny tried again.

"No! No Jenny, I don't want any psycho-babble. I don't want to hear your excuses or anything that House would say. I don't want lies. I want to know what the hell is going on! I want to know what's wrong with Lisa and why House isn't being an ass!" the oncologist demanded, his voice rising with every few words. Jenny sighed loudly, biting her bottom lip.

"It's not my place to say anything…"

"Cut the crap. Tell me what's going on. I know that you know. Casey said you'd been on the phone with House more than usual the last day or so. Not to mention that she said you didn't even come home until two hours after your shift the other night. What's going on?!"

"I'm sorry James, I'm under oath. I can't tell you." Jenny rambled, standing up to put the empty bottle into the recycling bin.

"If you're under oath that means that you treated Cuddy as a patient. Did she have a mental breakdown?!" Wilson rushed, eyes widening.

"Jimmy, slow the fuck down. If you want answers you're going to have to get them from Lisa. I'm sorry. Would you like an omelette?" Wilson let out a frustrated groan, slamming his hand down on the table.

"No wonder you and House make such good friends. You're both aggravating." He mumbled. "I should get going. I have a couple patients coming in this afternoon… if you change your mind about talking, you know my number." With that he stood up, wandering towards the front of the house. Jenny jogged after him, grabbing him by the shoulder.

"James… don't push her, okay? And don't push Greg either… this is the first time I've seen him act like a normal human since before the infarction." Wilson gave Jenny a nod before leaving. The blonde shook her head as she shut the door, going back to the kitchen to wait for her kids to return.

XxXxXxXxX

House was watching Cuddy sleep. He was somewhat startled by how relaxing the activity was. The dark haired woman was breathing softly, her eyes closed. The only thing that marred the image in front of him was the bruises on Cuddy's skin and the stitches on her cheek. She hadn't woken up in the night with another nightmare, which was a good sign, but House knew she wasn't out of the woods yet. He knew from experience that PTSD could strike almost any time after an attack like that. Generally it was within the first six months, but it could be suppressed until years later in some. Thinking about it made his mind spin, images of lifeless people flashing in his head. He shook himself out of his memories as there was a loud knock at the door, causing him to jump. Cuddy opened her eyes, squinting up at him.

"What was that?" she murmured, rubbing her eyes with her fist in an extremely childlike manner.

"Door. It's probably Jenny or Wilson. I'll go get it," House responded, getting up from the bed and limping out of the room. When he opened the door he was greeted with the sight of officer he'd talked to at the hospital the other night.

"Dr. House? Officer Leason, we spoke the other night? This is my partner, Detective DiFrancesco. Is Dr. Cuddy up to speaking with us about the attack?" Leason questioned. House just stood there blinking at him for a few seconds.

"Err… gimme a second, I'll go ask her. Wait here," House finally answered, shutting the door on the officers before going back to the bedroom. "Cuddy, there are some police here. They want to talk to you about what happened." Cuddy looked up at him, slightly panicked.

"I don't want to talk! I mean, what am I going to tell them? I'm still having trouble remembering what happened myself," Cuddy responded, already getting up off the bed and heading for the front door. Well, at least she was acting a bit more normal. House followed her as quickly as he could considering his lack of a cane. He couldn't help it, he felt defensive when it came to the woman in front of him. Actually, barbaric was probably a better word. He felt the urge to kill anyone who hurt her. Hell, he wanted to kill anyone who even looked at her the wrong way. By the time he realized where his thoughts were going Cuddy was wrenching the door open, looking up at Leason and his young female partner, DiFrancesco, and inviting them into the living room.

"Dr. Cuddy, my name is Nicholas Leason, and this is my partner, Simone DiFrancesco. We'd like to ask you a few questions about your attack the other night," Leason was saying as he and DiFrancesco sat down on the couch. Cuddy was sitting in the chair across from the sofa, House sitting on the arm of her chair.

"I'll answer you to the best of my ability. I'm afraid I don't remember a lot about what happened," Cuddy muttered, looking down at her hands.

"That's alright, just do your best to answer," DiFrancesco responded. "Can you tell us the name of the man who attacked you?"

"Josh… Josh Hodgins," Cuddy said.

"Can you tell us what happened at the club?"

"Can't you just ask Jenny Chapman? She already forced me to talk about this yesterday. She can tell you what I said," Cuddy snapped, eyes going to the window.

"I'm sorry Dr. Cuddy, but we need to hear this from you," Leason replied. Cuddy groaned, running a hand through her hair.

"I met Josh at the bar. He had bought us some wine. I drank it. Time passed, I started to feel funny, I went to the bathroom and when I came out he grabbed me and tried to rape me. Is that enough?" she queried.

"I know this is difficult Lisa, but could you go into more detail about the attack?" DiFrancesco asked. Cuddy swallowed hard.

"When… when I came out of the bathroom I was feeling really dizzy. Josh was standing there and he grabbed me by the wrists. He shoved me up against the wall… He started… he started trying to kiss me and pushing his erection into my pelvis… he wanted me to have sex with him. I begged him to let me go and he… he…" Cuddy trailed off.

Lisa's vision was starting to blur, her pulse quickening. She could feel her breath starting to come in shorter pants. All of a sudden she felt hands on her arms, gripping them. She blinked furiously, eyes going wide when she saw a pair of dark eyes in front of her. Josh's sinister stare penetrated her soul. She could see his lips moving but no sound came out. All that she could feel was his hot breath on her face and his hands on her, trying to pull her clothes off.

"STOP! NO! GET AWAY FROM ME!" Cuddy screamed, tears pouring from her eyes. House nearly fell off the chair then. Cuddy had her eyes clenched shut, her hands shoving an invisible predator away from her. House fell to his knees in front of her so that his face was level with hers.

"Lise. Lisa, look at me. It's just me, Greg. It's okay. You're safe," House rushed. He quickly turned to the officers behind him. "Get out. Now. She's not ready to talk." He snapped. Leason and DiFrancesco quickly stood, heading for the front door on their own accord. House watched Cuddy's chest rising and falling at a rapid pace, obviously hyperventilating. He wanted to touch her, to bring her back to reality, but he knew he couldn't. If he made even the slightest wrong move, he could force her to stay in the state she currently was in. The state that he had nightmares about forcing her into.

The house was silent, save for Cuddy's whimpers and pleas. House remained on his knees in front of her, telling her calming things as best as he could. He could only imagine what was going on in her head. He knew how horrible flashbacks were. He just hoped hers weren't as bad as his had been.

XxXxXxXxX

_Cuddy was desperately trying to get Josh off of her. She felt helpless. He had her hands pinned above her head, his other hand clawing at her legs, forcing her skirt up around her waist. Almost instantly he had her underwear ripped off and on the floor, forcing two of his fingers inside of her. _

"_You little slut. You love this. You love me forcing my fingers in your tight little cunt, don't you?" Josh hissed in her ear, biting the lobe when he was done speaking. Cuddy desperately shook her head, tears falling from her eyes. "Aw come on Lisa, I know you love it. Tell me you love it." Again, Cuddy shook her head. Suddenly she felt his hand across her cheek. "You stupid little cunt. Tell me you love it! Tell me you want it!" he screamed. Cuddy sobbed, trying desperately to shove him away, to get his hand out from between her legs. "Oh, you want more? You want me to fuck you?" _

"_Please, st-"_

"_Oh, you little bitch. You want my cock inside you, don't you? You want me to ram it into you so deep that I'll be the only man you ever crave until the day you die. Don't you?" Josh smirked. His hand slipped from between her thighs, going to undo his pants. Within seconds he had the button and zipper undone, pulling his penis out as he forced her harder against the wall. "Come on baby, open that wet cunt for me." _

XxXxXxXxX

Cuddy screamed, her eyes bursting open.

"It's okay Lise, you're safe. He can't get you," House said, noticing her insecure vision. Finally her eyes seemed to focus on him. She let out another gut wrenching sob, falling off the chair and into his arms. House could feel her shaking, her hands clawing at his back, the material of his shirt becoming bunched up in her fists. His thigh seared with pain but he didn't move. He just stayed where he was, letting the fragile woman in his arms sob and cling to him. "I've got you Lise. I've got you."

XxXxXxXxX

_**A/N:**_ Okay, so there's that FINALLY done…. Again guys, I'm really sorry about the massive delays this last little while. I'll do my best to have the next chapter up ASAP.

Please review. I need something to keep me going.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Author's Note: **_I suck at updating, I know. One of my dogs is in heart failure, which means I'm spending more time with him before I lose another one of my loved companions. I've already lost one this year, so I'm not in the mood to write that much. Thanks to -lies for her help with this, and to Alicia for Beta.

_**Disclaimer:**_ If you see it on telly, it's not mine.

XxXxXxXxX

House finally managed to get Cuddy into bed almost two hours after Leason and DiFrancesco had left. Just as he was tucking her in his phone rang, the ringer for his team blaring angrily throughout the room.

"Son of a bitch," House muttered, grabbing the phone and moving into the hall. "What the fuck do you want now?!" he snarled into the receiver.

"Um… we have a patient. I mean, unless you think being drunk or whatever you're doing is more important than saving a life, that is," Chase's voice replied through the phone. House cringed, running a hand through his hair.

"I don't know if I can make it in, I'm busy," he responded after a minute.

"House, look, just because Cuddy is out with some bug doesn't mean that you get to neglect your job! Send the hooker-"

"Don't you DARE say anything along those lines to me. Do you understand?" House snarled. He could hear Chase's hesitance to speak again, the strange clicking noises at the back of the Australian's throat being the only sound that came through the phone for a moment. "I'll see what I can do." With that, the diagnostician hung up, limping back into the bedroom. "Lisa, are you okay?" Cuddy nodded slightly, pulling the covers up around her. "Look… I have to go into work… I have a patient… I'm going to call Jenny and get her to come over here and keep an eye on you, is that okay?" Another nod. Before House could even reach for the phone he noticed the blonde in question standing by the door.

"I, um, I had a feeling something was up," Jenny said, keeping her distance. "What happened?"

"Flashback. She was talking to the police when it happened. Look, I need you to watch her while I go deal with a patient," House said, moving to go past his friend.

"Greg, you should be here! Lisa needs you more-"

"I know she needs me! God damnit, Jenny! She doesn't want anyone at work to know what happened! And in order for me to keep it under wraps I need to go to work and pretend that I care even a little about my job so that I can save the patient and get back here as soon as possible! Do you honestly think that I want to leave her here? I can't stand the thought of being away from her for more than a split second when she's like this!" House rambled. Jenny just blinked at him.

"My God, I think that was the closest thing to a confession of love that I've ever heard from you!" Jenny said, placing her hand on his arm. "Greg, go to work, fix the blasted patient and get back here. I'll make sure Lisa is alright." House nodded, sighing in defeat as he grabbed his shoes and coat before heading for the door. Jenny watched him leave before slipping into the bedroom and sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Hey Lisa," the blonde said sweetly. Cuddy looked up at her with bloodshot eyes.

"Hi," Cuddy whispered back.

"Greg told me that you had a flashback while you were talking to the police. Did you want to tell me about it?" Jenny questioned. Cuddy shook her head vigorously, yanking the covers up in an extremely childlike manner until they covered her head. "That's alright Lisa, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Jenny said, gently tugging the covers back down until she could see the Dean of Medicine's face again. "We're going to have to talk about something though, seeing as I hate awkward silences. What should we talk about, Lisa?" The dark haired woman shrugged, not meeting Jenny's eyes. "Hmm, let's see, do you want me to tell you more about all the trouble that Greg and I used to get into when we were kids?"

XxXxXxXxX

House rode his bike, which had magically appeared in Cuddy's driveway, to the hospital. The minute he was off of it, he stormed into the building, through the clinic and up to his office. It was only once he was there that he realized that he didn't have his cane with him. Swearing under his breath at the strain he was putting on his leg, House shoved the door open, glaring at his team.

"This better be the most fucking complicated case you've ever seen if you can't solve it yourselves," House snapped. Cameron winced at his angry tone, clearing her throat as she picked up the folder.

"Patient is a seven year old girl. Parents say the first thing they noticed was that she wanted to sleep during the day but was up all night," Cameron began.

"Yeah, cause no kid ever wants to sleep during the day and stay up all night," House muttered, gripping the back of a chair so as to spread his weight out more without actually sitting down. The female doctor glared at him for a moment before continuing.

"The patient then started to develop cold-like symptoms, as well as a lack of being completely aware of what was going on around her. She's now presenting with severe coughing, nosebleeds, hearing loss, pain and swelling in the joints, renal failure –"

"You're all morons," House growled. Cameron gaped at him, Foreman slamming his cup down on the table while Chase just frowned. "It's Wegener's Granulomatosis. Start treating her with corticosteroids and oral cyclophosphamide. Next time, run some tests and diagnose the patient on your own. Remember, Daddy won't always be here to cover your asses." And with that the diagnostician took his leave from the room, leaving his disgruntled team to treat the patient. House sighed, wanting nothing more than to get back to Cuddy as soon as possible. Jenny was right. He was shocking himself with how protective and gentle he had become over the last few days. Just as he was stepping into the elevator Wilson popped up beside him, stepping in with him.

"You better be about to tell me what's going on with Cuddy," Wilson said, his voice firm.

"What makes you think anything is going on?" House shot back, his leg starting to ache.

"For starters, she practically screamed bloody murder when I came to bring her soup, but she seemed to have no problem clinging to you like a child clings to its mother. Secondly, I went to see Jenny this morning, but she wouldn't say anything to me. Although, she said it was because of doctor-patient confidentiality. What confuses me, though, is why the hell you were there, and why Jenny is magically seeing Cuddy in a doctor-patient capacity," Wilson rushed, slamming his hand down on the emergency stop button and therefore preventing House from leaving the elevator.

"Sorry Jimmy, not my place to say anything either," House retorted, trying to reach past his friend to turn off the emergency stop.

"Greg. Seriously. There's something wrong. Lisa and you are my best friends. I think I have the right to know what's wrong with her!" Wilson defended, blocking House's path. House sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and realizing how long his beard had become. When was the last time he shaved anyway? "House?" The older doctor sighed, leaning his weight against the back wall of the elevator.

"She was attacked…" he breathed. Even with his eyes closed, House could practically feel Wilson's eyes widening.

"Is she okay? Have you taken her to see a doctor? Was she hurt?" Wilson rambled. House cringed, feeling his head start to throb.

"She's… she's really shaken up…" House began, trying to choose his words carefully, when in reality, he wanting nothing more than to have his friend know exactly what had happened so that he might be able to help. "Physically she'll be fine. Couple of cuts and a lot of bruises, but she's going to be alright. Mentally… She's skittish, paranoid almost. And… I'm worried that she's developing PTSD. She was trying to talk to the cops this morning and she had a flashback. It took me two hours to calm her down. Jenny was at the hospital when I took her in the other night to get checked over… that's why she's treating her as a patient; she was the one who performed the psych evaluation. She's terrified of almost everyone, except me! ME! Why the fuck would she pick me, Wilson? Just because I pulled the guy off her… what am I supposed to do?" Wilson blinked. He'd never heard House let out so much information at once. Especially with such a concerned tone of voice.

"She obviously needs you House… otherwise… she wouldn't have reacted the way she did. You should get back, go be with her. Help her heal. Call me if you need _anything_," Wilson answered, pressing the button again so that the elevator lurched back into action. House nodded, rubbing his eyes again as the elevator beeped, signalling that they had reached the ground floor.

"Jimmy-"

"Don't worry, I won't say anything to anyone," Wilson assured him, walking beside House and out into the parking lot. "I just have one thing to ask… House… where's your cane?" House smirked slightly, mounting his bike.

"I had it earlier… but you know, I'll be damned if I knew where I left it. It's somewhere at Cuddy's place. Knowing Jenny, she's tossed it somewhere just to piss me off. Probably has Lisa in on it too… just to, you know, keep her mind off things." House sighed. Wilson nodded, clapping his friend on the back supportively before heading back to the hospital. House watched him go before pulling on his helmet and revving the bike to life.

He'd never flown through the city like he did in that moment, trees flying past him as he skirted the streets, pulling into the driveway of his boss' house and practically running up the stairs of her porch. The minute he was inside he went up the stairs, going to the bedroom. Cuddy was sitting up in the bed, Jenny sitting on the windowsill, her hands moving about as she talked, a smile on her face. But he didn't care what she was saying. Instead, he went to Cuddy's bedside, sitting down on the edge of the mattress and pulling her into a gentle hug. One which she returned without hesitation. Jenny watched from her perch, seeing the relief that filled the younger woman when House's arms were wrapped around her. The blonde smiled, leaving the room. Maybe something good could come out of this after all.

XxXxXxXxX

_**A/N:**_ I don't know when I'll be updating again because of my dog. I'll do my best to get it up ASAP, but no promises, so please, don't email me getting angry if this isn't updated for a couple weeks.

Please review. I really love hearing from you and getting your opinions. :)


	14. Chapter 14

_**Author's Note:**_ PLEASE, if you're going to email me demanding me to work on this, LOGIN or LEAVE ME YOUR EMAIL so that I can explain why things haven't been updated. A lot of shit has been going on with me lately, henceforth, I have LITTLE TO NO TIME to work on anything. I apologize for my lack of updates and greatly appreciate those of you who have dealt with me being a lunatic lately. I AM NOT giving up on this story, I just don't have a lot of time.

_**Disclaimer:**_ I only own Jenny and Co. If it's on the show, it belongs to Fox and/or David Shore.

XxXxXxXxX

House buried his nose in Cuddy's hair, holding her close to him. He could feel his pulse slowing and his body relaxing with ever breath she took; her chest rising and falling rhythmically against his.

"I'm sorry I was gone for so long," he whispered. He pulled back after a beat, searching her face with his eyes. "Are you alright?" Cuddy looked up at him, nodding slightly before snuggling into his chest again.

"I'll be okay," she told him softly. House kissed the top of her head, rocking her back and forth gently.

"I have to go talk to Jenny. Is that okay?" House inquired. Cuddy nodded, untangling herself from him and laying back against the mattress.

XxXxXxXxX

Jenny walked back out into the hallway, rubbing at the back of her neck. She was exhausted, but she doubted her level of tiredness was anything near that of her brash friend. He was still in the bedroom hugging Cuddy as if she was the only thing connecting him to the world. She could only fathom what he had felt when he had been forced to go into work. Not due to an obligation per say, but in order to save face for both himself and Cuddy. The blonde leaned against the wall, her hair falling down around her face.

"Is she alright?" House asked, startling her. Jenny jumped, grabbing at her chest while glaring at him.

"Don't startle me like that Greg!" the blonde growled, rubbing at her eyes. "Lisa's still really hesitant when it comes to talking about what happened, but she seems to be able to hold a conversation quite well if it doesn't have anything to do with what happened with that Josh fellow. I'd like to have another session with her. Not today – she's been through enough for one day – but maybe the first of the week. She told me that she doesn't want to be scared of everything, so I'd like it if you could bring her to my office. I know it's a big step considering what she's been through, but it's important."

"Right… Monday… sure. Am I going to be in there with her?" the Diagnostician inquired. Jenny sighed, pushing her long bangs back and out of her face.

"I think she needs to do this alone. She's starting to open up to me and, as hard as this may be, she has to know that she won't always have you to hide behind during issues like this. The quicker I can get her to be open about what's happened with only me in the room, the quicker she'll start do deal with what happened, and the less likely that she'll let the flashbacks take over her life," Jenny replied. House nodded for what seemed like the hundredth time. He wasn't used to being at such a loss for words but at the same time, he didn't really know what to say. He cared deeply for Cuddy, he had to admit, so he wanted nothing more than for her to get better. So that things could go back to normal for them. So that he wasn't scared of saying something that would cause her to be thrown into psychosis. "Greg? You okay?" House blinked furiously, looking his friend in the face.

"Yeah, sure, great," he replied, not exactly sure what he was actually responding to. He ran a hand over his face, leaning his back against the wall. His leg ached, but not enough to cause him more than mild discomfort, which was strange.

"Are you going to be in La-La Land all day? Cos, you know, I have kids that will be ransacking the kitchen sooner or later if I don't inform them on the status of their dinner. If you want me to stick around I can always tell Milana to order a pizza," Jenny said. House shook his head, groaning softly as he pushed off the wall.

"Nah, it's alright Jen. You go feed your demon children, I'll be fine here… I'll call you if anything goes haywire," House told her, limping off towards the kitchen in order to make himself and Cuddy something to eat. Jenny trailed after him after a moment, having had to stop and say goodbye to Cuddy first.

"Make sure you're not stressing yourself out too much Greg; you always have symptoms when you stress this much," Jenny commented, leaning against the counter next to the fridge. House glanced up at her from his quest to locate food, glaring.

"I know my own disease quite well thanks Jen," he retorted. Jenny shrugged, pushing off and going towards the front door again.

"Just be careful. I think you should tell Lisa about your condition. It might make her feel better to know that PTSD isn't the end of things. You cope quite well, she can too. Just… for God's sake Greg, open up to her." And with that, she was gone, the front door clicking shut with a gust of cold air. House muttered to himself as he pulled out the soup and a few other things that Wilson had brought over the day before. He sighed. He knew Jenny was right, he should tell Cuddy about his condition… he just didn't know how.

XxXxXxXxX

House carried the bowls of soup back to Cuddy's bedroom, sighing when he found her asleep. Again. He doubted that the woman had ever slept that much in her life.

"Lise, d'you want something to eat?" he whispered. She didn't answer, her breathing even and calm. House put the soup down on the dresser, downing his own bowl in a few gulps before lying down on the bed again. He couldn't help himself, gathering the dark haired Dean of Medicine into his arms. He hated how much he loved the feel of her there. Yet, at the same time, part of him wanted that until he died, and damn, did that scare him. He felt her snuggle against him after a moment, her head coming to rest against his shoulder. House glanced out the window, the early winter sun having set a little while before, casting New Jersey into a realm of shadows. He could feel himself falling asleep, despite having not felt tired. Emotional stuff was too exhausting.

XxXxXxXxX

_House woke up when he felt heat against his face. His eyes shot open, instantly being bombarded with the sight of fire next to him. He tried to get up, feeling the bindings on his wrists and ankles. He struggled wildly, trying to break the ropes, only stopping when a loud, female scream broke through the silence. House turned his head, following the noise. His stomach dropped at the sight._

_The Shaman from his childhood was a few meters away, Cuddy pinned underneath him. Her wrists were tied to some poles, her legs forced apart as he violently raped her. _

"_Stop! Get off her! STOP IT!" House screamed. He tried to wrench his legs apart and stand up but his infarction made it impossible. He felt bile rise in his throat. If he was still young…if he still had the complete use of his leg… he could have ripped them. He knew he could. _

_The Shaman shook his head, the straw mane on his mask flying about, his cackling laughter echoing into the dark. As he pulled himself out of Cuddy's body he grabbed his machete, slicing it through the flesh of her leg. She screeched, head thrown back in agony. _

"_LISA!" House yelled. _

"_House!" she hollered. "Greg! Oh God, GREG!"_

XxXxXxXxX

House's eyes shot open, only to find Cuddy straddling his stomach, her hands gripping his shoulders with astonishing force for such a small woman.

"Greg! Can you hear me?!" she demanded. House struggled to focus on her face, trying to push the flames that were licking at her skin from his mind, his breathing coming in short, sharp gasps. He reached up to cup her face, desperately searching her eyes.

"Lisa…are you… did he?" he rushed, hand dropping from her face down to her leg, trying to feel for wounds beneath the thin, cotton fabric of her pyjamas.

"Greg, I'm fine, see? Nothing's wrong, okay?" Cuddy answered, guiding his hands over the expanse of her thighs so that he would believe her. She'd woken up a few minutes before to find him struggling against invisible bonds beneath the covers, soaked in sweat and muttering unintelligible words. The only thing that she'd managed to make out was her name. She'd jumped on him then, trying to wake him up. By the look in his eyes, he'd been having a PTSD related nightmare.

"You're okay?" he queried, voice quiet.

"Yep," Cuddy replied, smiling at him. She instantly felt herself being pulled forward, landing with a soft thump on House's chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

"I thought he got you. I thought…I thought he took your legs and there wasn't any way for me to stop him," House rushed, his mouth next to her ear.

"Who did you think got me?" Cuddy asked. She knew House would be cross if she let on that Jenny had told her something so personal about his past.

"The Shaman… Lise… I need to tell you a few things," House began. Cuddy just lay there, listening to him recount the story about how he and Jenny had almost met their untimely end at the hands of an African tribe. He told her about how the infarction had affected him, how he'd developed PTSD due to surfacing memories and fears connected to amputations. He told her why Jenny was the only one who had known and how he had conned her into not putting it into his medical records. Cuddy didn't even know how to respond, having never seen him this open about himself before. Instead of saying anything she just pressed herself closer to him, kissing him on the temple.

By the end of his tale Cuddy could feel House shaking beneath her, a few tears having managed to escape from his eyes and onto the skin of her neck and shoulder.

"I'm so sorry…I…I didn't know," Cuddy finally said.

"Not your fault… my dream just…they always feel so real and to… to see him not only brutalizing you but then trying to cut your legs off… I just felt so helpless because I couldn't get to you… couldn't save you," House explained. Cuddy closed her eyes tightly, trying to keep her own eyes from watering.

"But that's just it Greg… you did save me."

XxXxXxXxX

_**A/N:**_ There. Done another chapter. Sorry about the delay. Very busy, lots of crap going on here. Not very pleasant crap at that.

PLEASE review. I really need something to keep my mind busy so I don't end up in a mental hospital. I mean, I LOVE House, but I don't want to BE him, if you get my drift.


	15. Chapter 15

**_Author's Note:_** --ducks and covers—I'm sorry! I've been working like mad and then I had my friend Nina here from BC and haven't barely even touched the computer. Will try and update more often, I promise. This story isn't dead though. It's just… kinda slow in the making… Again, really, really sorry. Thanks to Alicia for BETA.

**_Disclaimer: _**If you see them on television, they're not mine :)

XxXxXxXxX

"What if I don't want to go to therapy?" Cuddy demanded, following House into the kitchen. It was Monday morning and, as decided on Saturday, she was supposed to be seeing Jenny to talk that afternoon.

"Doesn't matter if you want to or not. You've gotta talk to her Cuddy, otherwise you won't be the only one in shit with the blonde psycho fiend," House replied, glancing back at her as she trailed him back out into the living room, stealing his coffee the second he put it down on the table. "What the hell woman?! We're not married! My coffee is exactly that, _mine!_"

"My house, my coffee beans - therefore, by default, I can have any coffee I want," Cuddy grinned, sipping away at it. House just glared at her before he rubbed his eyes.

"Well unless you want me to crash your car on our way to Hightstown, I suggest you give me back the caffeine," House retorted, lunging for the mug and successfully wrestling it from Cuddy's grasp without spilling it on the carpet.

"Who said you're driving?" the female shot back, pouting as she crossed her arms over her chest. House sighed, giving her a pained look.

"Lise… we don't know how… you haven't really… if you freak out when we're outside I don't want you getting yourself or the both of us killed," he finally said. Cuddy blushed, looking down at the carpet.

"Oh… right… sorry," she whispered, going into the kitchen. House groaned.

"I didn't mean-" he started.

"No, it's fine. You're right. We don't know how I'm going to act out there. I don't think I'm going to have another attack but… but I'm not sure," she responded, leaning against the counter as she poured herself her own mug of coffee.

"You're going to be okay, you know that, right?" House asked her, putting both cups of coffee down on the counter and turning her face upwards so that he could look into her eyes.

"When, House… when?" she replied.

"Soon." She looked at him for a moment before letting out a sigh and heading back upstairs, her coffee in hand. House frowned, wondering what she was doing, but decided to let it go for a few moments. Cuddy, on the other hand, was standing in the bathroom, pulling out all the makeup she owned while frowning at the dark bruises that still marred her face. She picked up a container of foundation, wincing as she spread it across the bruised area. She hated that she had to do this. Hated that she couldn't even bear the thought of going out into the world looking like she was the victim of abuse. She bit her lip, fighting off tears as her fingers traced the edges of the stitches that were in her cheek, the purple and green bruise barely being disguised behind the layer of makeup she was applying. She dropped the container onto the counter, gripping the edges of the sink while a few tears slipped from her eyes.

"Goddamnit," she whispered.

"Why do you feel the need to hide, Cuddy?" House asked, leaning against the doorframe. She jumped slightly, quickly swiping the tears from her eyes as she glared back at him.

"Do you honestly think I want people to see me like this? I look like one of those women we get in the ER who are victims of domestic violence," she retorted, going back to her makeup, wincing when she pressed too hard against her cheek. House shook his head.

"You should be proud to show those. It shows that you went through hell but you're still alive and fighting," he told her, grabbing the foundation from her hand and holding it above her head. "You're beautiful with or without this crap all over your face. Wear your bruises with pride, woman; just pretend they're like a pair of Prada shoes for your face." And with that he tossed the makeup in the bin, leaving the room. Cuddy watched him go, a small smile playing at her lips.

XxXxXxXxX

"You ready for this?" House questioned. Cuddy glanced over at him, taking a deep breath as she nodded. They were sitting in the parking lot of Centra State Medical Centre, House keeping a close eye on Cuddy as he tried to sense if she was going to have a panic attack.

"No, but I'm going to have to do it anyway," Cuddy answered, undoing her seatbelt and opening the door. House got out of the driver's seat, limping around to her side of the car. Cuddy closed her eyes, stepping out of the car and slamming the door shut. She opened her eyes again, looking at the hospital as if it were a demon. "I don't know if I can do this," she whispered, her hands starting to shake.

"Yes you can," House assured her, taking her hand in his and starting to walk towards the hospital. Cuddy pulled back slightly for a moment but gave up when she didn't feel House relenting. Instead she followed him into the building, clinging onto his arm when they had to get into the elevator with two other men and a woman. Cuddy could feel her entire body trembling; her palms sweating as she nervously glanced at the men. "It's okay Lise, they're not a threat to you," House assured her, pulling her closer into his body. He could feel her shaking against him but he knew that she had to do this – had to face her demons. Cuddy sighed in relief when they got off the elevator and walked into the empty hallway. She glanced around, noticing that Jenny's office was only two doors away. As she entered the outer office she exhaled, thanking her lucky stars that Jenny's secretary was a woman.

"Can you-" Cuddy started. House nodded, helping her sit down before going over to the desk.

"Yeah, hi, we're here to see Dr. Chapman," House told the younger girl. The female looked up, grinning at him.

"Hey Uncle Greg; my mum will be right with you," Milana answered. House smiled at her.

"She better be Lana, I'm bored here already," he replied. Milana rolled her eyes, pressing the intercom button.

"Mum, Uncle Greg and Dr. Cuddy are here," she said into the phone. The office door instantly burst open, Jenny standing there with a smile on her face

"Greg, Lisa, it's great to see you. How're you doing?" Jenny asked. House raised an eyebrow at her. "Right, well. Um, Lana, why don't you take a break for a couple minutes? Go get yourself something from the cafeteria," Jenny rambled, grabbing some money from her pocket and throwing it to her daughter. The younger blonde nodded, getting up and leaving the office. "Lisa, I know this is going to be a little bit scary, but I'd like to talk to you alone today. Greg can stay here in the outer office, but I want it to just be you and me in the office. Is that okay?" Cuddy frantically looked up at House. He had a small frown on his face but he wasn't jumping in to object. The endocrinologist sighed.

"I suppose that's okay," she muttered, standing up. Jenny grinned at her.

"Great. Greg, sit down, grab a magazine or something. When Lana gets back you can entertain yourself with harassing her if you wish." And with that the two women disappeared into the office, the door shutting behind them. House sat down in the chair, scrubbing his hands over his face. He couldn't help but feel helpless with that door between himself and Cuddy.

XxXxXxXxX

"So, Lisa, how are you feeling today?" Jenny asked once they were settled in the office. Cuddy fidgeted slightly, adjusting the hem of her shirt as she looked down at her knees.

"I… I'm coping as best I can," the dark haired woman finally said. Jenny nodded.

"Coping is good. It's going to take time to get back to who you were before. You may never be that exact same way again, but you are going to get better," Jenny replied. "Now, Lisa, do you want to tell me why you're so nervous about being in here and talking to me, or do you want me to guess?" The blonde woman's eyes were dancing slightly, making Cuddy laugh softly. She looked to content in her job, not intimidating at all really.

"I… I haven't really been without House since the whole thing happened… I guess… I guess I'm just nervous about not having him here with me…" Cuddy whispered. Jenny nodded, leaning casually back in her chair.

"Mm, he really has become your knight in shining armour lately, hasn't he? Are you frightened of being without him? Without having someone to protect you? I'm the last person you need to be afraid of Lisa; I'm almost certain you could easily take me in a fight," the blonde was saying. Cuddy shrugged, swallowing. "You don't like me talking about you being in a weakened state, do you?" Blue eyes met green for a moment before Cuddy looked back down at her hands. "Just because something horrible happened does not mean that you're a weak person, Lisa. Horrible things happen, people are victimized, but that doesn't mean you're weak because of it." Cuddy growled slightly, her calm and nervous demeanour shifting to one of anger almost instantly.

"Yes it does! I'm the goddamn dean of medicine! I was so scared of one of my oncologists that I could barely function! I can't go outside, I can't talk to anyone, I can't even be in a fucking elevator without thinking that the next man who comes near me is going to throw me down and fuck me like a whore!" Cuddy yelled, slamming her hands down on the desk and standing up. Jenny just watched her calmly. "I can't fucking believe that the only way I can function now is with House standing next to me every second of every day! I don't want to have to depend on him! I hate it!" Cuddy screamed before crumpling into the chair, hiding her face in her hands as she sobbed. Jenny sighed, closing her eyes slightly before pushing herself up and out of her chair, going to kneel next to the other woman.

"I want you to listen to me, okay Lisa?" the blonde asked. Cuddy sniffed loudly, rubbing her nose on the sleeve of her sweater before nodding. "Things are going to be hard. You're going to find yourself wanting to hide in the closet, or to run and cling onto Greg whenever something scares you, but you _will_ get better. This is not going to happen overnight. You're going to have to take things one day at a time. Some days you'll be able to go to work, do your dean of medicine shindig, and go home without anything going wrong. Others, you're going to find yourself in your office huddled on the couch crying, but that is all part of the healing process. The first thing you needed to do was to admit that things are not okay, and you've done that. You've admitted that you're scared of being raped or attacked again, and you've admitted that Greg is the one you hide behind. From here, we can start to make things better," Jenny smiled. Cuddy looked at her through watery eyes.

"How?"

"Well, first off, we need to talk about your options in a situation like this. The first thing you could do is to do nothing. You don't have to come to counselling, you don't have to take medication, you just go off and work on getting your life back on track without any outside help. But I have to warn you, I do not recommend this. Many people who I see in the ER who decide not to seek treatment end up back here for counselling or even psychiatric stays," Jenny explained. "Secondly, you could choose to have counselling. You can come see me, or another doctor at your own hospital, once a week, or as many times as you'd like, to discuss what is going on in your life, and to help you find a way to balance things and restore your lifestyle to what it was before the attack."

"That… that doesn't sound too horrible," Cuddy said. She still didn't exactly like the idea of being forced to talk to someone, but at the same time she knew that there was a strong possibility of her needing to at a later date if she didn't start right away.

"The last thing I need to talk to you about in this regard is whether or not you'd like to be put on medication. As I'm sure you know, there are a million anti-anxiety medications on the market today. There are tranquilizers if you're unable to sleep, anti-depressants if you feel unable to function, you know the drill," the psychiatrist explained. Cuddy nodded for a moment. "Did you want me to prescribe you something?"

"No," Cuddy answered quickly. "I don't want to go on medications unless it's absolutely necessary. I'd rather come speak with you once or twice a week. I don't think I would feel comfortable speaking to someone who works for me about nearly being raped in a club…"

"That's perfectly understandable. Now, I just want to talk to you about one more thing and then you're free to run as far away from me as you can get for another couple days," Jenny grinned, going back to her chair and sitting down, grabbing her notepad and a pen as she went. "Can you tell me why you were scared of James, Lisa?" Cuddy's eyes widened as she looked at the slightly older woman. She could feel her pulse quicken a bit, her hands clenching into fists as her palms began to sweat.

"I… I thought… I thought he was Josh," Cuddy let out in a rush.

"But he told you he wasn't. He even knew Greg. Josh didn't ever meet Greg," Jenny pressed.

"I know… I just… I wasn't able to think properly. It was like… like all men were suddenly turning into him. I felt like I couldn't trust anyone, because he might have been pretending to be them or something…"

"But you trust Greg."

"House is different he… he… he saved me," Cuddy whispered. Jenny nodded, scribbling notes down.

"You feel comfortable around him because he saved you. To you, he's the only safe man around now, isn't he?" Jenny watched as the other woman's face contorted slightly, a frown forming on her face.

"I wish that I could say no, but you're right… House, the most abrasive man I know is now the only person I feel comfortable being around… the only one I feel isn't a threat to me…"

"Mm, I see. Alright Lisa, that's all we need to talk about today. I'm going to give you a little bit of homework though, okay? It's nothing hard, and there's no writing involved, I promise," Jenny smiled. Cuddy looked at her apprehensively.

"First off, I'd like you to come see me again on Friday, alright? Now, before Friday, I want you to go on a walk around your neighbourhood. You can take Greg with you, but I want you to go outside and be around other people. Does that sound reasonable?" Jenny asked.

"I suppose so…" Cuddy answered, standing up.

"Awesome. Alright Lisa, that's all for today." The minute the words left Jenny's mouth Cuddy was at the door, pulling it open and rushing back into the outer office. House was on his feet in an instant, pulling the dark haired woman into a hug. After a moment, Milana stood up from her place at the desk.

"Sorry to bother you Dr. Cuddy, but can you please sign these?" the girl asked. Cuddy reluctantly let go of House, moving to the desk to sign the papers the girl was talking about.

"How'd she do?" House asked Jenny, noticing how his friend was watching Cuddy interact with Milana.

"She did well. Her homework this week is to go on a walk around the neighbourhood with you," Jenny explained, her attention not wavering.

"Go on a walk? Jen, are you losing your mind? I've got a bum leg," House protested quietly.

"I'm perfectly lucid thank you very much, if anyone is losing their mind it's you Greg. You don't even have a cane with you."

XxXxXxXxX

**_A/N:_** I'm annoying, I know. Leave me alone. Haha. And if any of you were wondering if counsellors give you homework, the answer is yes. The one I had to see would always give me stupid tasks to complete for the next session… they helped though, oddly enough.

Please review? Please?


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